Ursa of Fire
by The Unchained Melody
Summary: If Sauron is to be defeated, then the lands of Mordor must be conquered. For this, an army is needed and a ring of power. Ursa the Cunning and her lover Talion the Gravewalker now set out upon this dark path. The final chapter in Ursa's tale. Rated M for sexual content and violence.
1. The Hero's Memory and the New Creed

**Part 1: Ursa of War**

 **Chapter One: The Hero's Memory and the New Creed**

"A ranger should must be silent as a fox, as deadly as a serpent, and with eyes like an eagle. Fail at any one of these, and your prey may escape to see another day. This must not be so. Should you fail to slay the goblins that lurk beyond the Black Gate, innocent people will surely die. Remember, the only good Orc is a dead Orc." – _Duilin, Captain of the Black Gate, training his men_

The young ranger stood at the foot of the hill with a stack of houses behind him. Before him, he saw a golden beam of light that lit the path to Gondor. Although the Black Gate stood in front of him, it had remained sealed, only opening occasionally for small Orc parties. Even so, it was now under Gondor's complete control. The Dark Lord had been defeated three millennia ago and now his leaderless underlings were all that remained. It was a place of dread, and yet for this ranger, it was a chance at a new life.

Talion looked upon the silver gleam of his sword and saw the reflection of his brown eyes. The eyes of a Northman, not of the blue and green of Minas Tirith's royalty. He wondered if it was his bloodline or his sin that had condemned him here. Yet, he did not despise it as much as he was ashamed. The ranger slid his sword into its scabbard and took a deep breath.

Suddenly, white arms slid around his throat. He felt the cheek of a woman he knew press against his own. His eyes turned to the side to look upon her. Here was Ioreth, dressed in her finest red and white robes.

"Good morning my love," she said, "Were you planning to head off before saying farewell?"

"It is only the first day," said Talion, "You need not be here. I am sure the Captain will only send me off for training. There will be no battle here. At least… that is what I hope."

"Talion" she said. Her voice pierced through the vines that wrapped around his heart, just as they always did. He felt air enter his lungs once again.

Ioreth said, "Do not let such things weigh down your heart. I am not ashamed."

"Always, you can read my mind," he said with a sour smile "But how can I not be ashamed? To take you away from the beauty of Minis Tirith, to the Black Gate itself... What life is this for you and Dirhael?"

"It will be a good life," said his wife, "I know it. Talion… as long as we are all together, it does not matter if we are without coin or roof. I would happily endure it."

He kissed his wife upon the lips. She smiled boldly at him, making him wish he had her strength.

Talion said, "Then I will be off. Today I must prove my worth."

Ioreth said, "You will make a fine ranger my love."

"Do you really think so?" asked Talion. In that moment, he felt the vines constrict around his heart again. Old memories weighed him down and stole the life from him.

He said, "I am a murderer by law, am I fit to be seen as a protector of the realm?"

Ioreth said, "You saved me from a wicked man. No matter what some judge may decree, I know that to be true. Just as you protected me, so will you protect the people of this land. I believe you are fit to be a captain. Yes, I am certain that one day you will be captain of the guard."

"Me…. A captain?"

"Yes. You will be a hero of Gondor. A guardian of Middle Earth."

"A hero…" he repeated.

Yes, if he could protect Gondor for just a little, he might know what redemption felt like. He might be able to see himself in his reflection and not know shame. The day might come where he saw a gallant ranger in his stead. So, he would protect them. He would protect all of them from the darkness. Until the very end, he would be a hero.

* * *

"It is time Talion"

The cold words of the Wraith that he could no longer ignore.

Talion's tired eyes turned to look upon the illuminated form of the phantom that possessed him, that gave him life. The Wraith's eyes were stern as always, but the ranger had come to see there was some warmth left in them.

"I know," he said, "It is time we make the ring."

 _I had hoped to stay with Inga a little longer. It seems I must leave such to my wife. Yes, she will guard these lands and raise our daughter in my absence._

They had waited here in peace for months. The Wraith had taken time to mourn the memory of his family while Ursa and Talion watched over their child as it grew from womb to infant. Talion could not spare any more time. The enemy was moving. If they failed to obtain a new source of power and to expand their army, Núrn would see itself invaded from all sides. Delay had nearly cost them the war before when the Tower took Núrn for himself. They could not delay the journey any longer.

"Ursa is strong," said Celebrimbor, "She will tend to Núrn. With her sorcery and leadership, it will endure until our return. Come, let us say our farewells. The road to Mount Doom is long."

Talion nodded silently. He did not want to think of being separated from her again for so long. A father should be with his wife and child. Instead, he was about to set off for a journey of many months. It was no short stretch from the bottom of Mordor to its greatest peak.

* * *

Talion rode briskly up the cobblestone path that led to the Witch Queen's grand fortress. It was the largest fortress along the coast of Núrn and once home to a fearsome Orc Warchief. Now it was controlled by the half-Orc. She had kept much of its intimidating decorations such as the blades and bones of Caragor and Graug. However, she had cut down the skeletons of goblins and men. Once Fort Morn had been a place of slavery, dungeons of torture, and death. Now it was the capital of the rebellion against Sauron. Here the men and women of the tribes were free. If only the same could be said of the Orc.

All around Talion were branded Uruk. They were unaware of the change, but each now served the Bright Lord. They would die if Talion or the Wraith ordered it. And they would think nothing of it. These Uruk were essential for Celebrimbor's army. Talion did not often think about it, but he knew Ursa did not feel the same. For her, it was a necessary evil, one she had begrudgingly accepted.

Talion did not wait for the gatekeepers to let him in. He proudly pushed apart the great doors. The huge wooden doors, plated with iron, swung open and roared as their hinges spun. Inside, the Warchief was seated upon her throne. No, the title Warchief was no longer fitting for one who ruled over all chieftains on Nurn's coast. She was surrounded by a host of armored Orcs. Her bodyguard Flog guarded her right while her head strategist stood to her left. Beside her obsidian throne, was the throne meant of her husband, one where he rarely sat upon. Despite the intimidating air her throne room exuded, the Warchief was not dressed particularly fearsome. Today, she wore a comfortable dress, one of a pure white that hung off of her shoulders. A mantle of gold was sown onto the chest and sleeves. The white sleeves were long and flowed far past her fingertips. She had on a crown carved of wood with an eye of blue sown between two spires of wood at the top of it. A symbol of her allegiance to the Bright Lord. Yes, there was no point hiding from the Dark Lord. He would soon know who it was who slew his sons and who conquered Núrn. And so she showed it proudly.

Ursa's long ebony hair fell down to her stomach, contrasted sharply with the ivory of her garments. Her eye patch was concealed behind the long veil of her hair covering the right of her face. However, her left eye was fully visible. A color that terrified Talion as much as he adored her. It was the eye of the enemy. Ursa smiled down at him, a smile full of warmth and life. It was not the same smile she had showed him when they first fell in love. Back then, she idolized him, and her eyes always showed she was unsure if she deserved him. Now her eyes were that of an equal in all things. Yet, they adored each other more than ever.

"Talion," she said to the approaching ranger, "you've returned. I have just finished my duties. Why don't I have our chef prepare the three of us something to eat?"

"I would like that very much," he said.

She then asked anxiously, "Did you settle your business?"

"Yes. Ursa… there is something we must speak of," said Talion.

"I know…" she said, "You are leaving."

Talion nodded. He saw her eye sadden slightly. However, she did not despair. They had both known this day would come.

"I am sorry to leave you so soon. I should be here with you."

She shook her head and said, "I am grateful to all you have done. Truly I am. You were here for our daughter's birth. Though I will miss you, I know you will return to me."

Celebrimbor said to her, "We will return with a fine prize."

Ursa said, "I am grateful to you as well, my lord, for being understanding."

She then said, "I hope you will oblige to one last request of mine. Do not leave until the first light of dawn. One more night with my husband. One more day to say goodbye to Inga."

"Of course, Ursa," said Talion, "I would not leave without a proper farewell, and if I could, I would remain here without fail."

She beamed at him and stood up from her throne. The Queen walked down to her husband and grabbed hold of his hand. She then pulled him through a door that led to the main hall and towards the royal chambers.

She whispered, "I really will miss you."

As Talion heard the fragility of her words, he saw a glimpse of the scared, brave little half-Orc he had known. How she had blossomed!

Ursa slipped into the room beside her bedroom. Here was a room draped in blankets, goose-feather pillows, dolls, toy swords, and other toys meant for babies. In the back of the room, propped against the window was a wooden crib carved by the finest craftsmen in the tribes. In the pen, lay their child, peacefully asleep. She had small tufts of black hair on her head. Her skin was quite pale, though not as much as her mother. Indeed, her cheeks were rosy. As for her eyes, they were brown as her father's were in his previous life. This was the child of a man arisen from the dead and a Half-Orc. Her very existence was a miracle as most half-Orcs were infertile and the few that reproduced were doomed to see their child stillborn. Instead, a peaceful, healthy child lay in the crib. They did not know what she would look like when she was older. However, right now she merely looked like a sun-starved child of men rather than of Orc. However, Ursa believed she would have fangs, as she did, when her true teeth came in.

Right now, her parents swooped silently over her like assassins. They beamed down at her. The child began to stir, as if sensing her parents. She let out a grumble and began to cry. Ursa quickly slid her fingers beneath the infant's back and pulled Inga up to her shoulder. The child quieted down, letting out moans and coos. Ursa grinned as she rubbed Inga on the back.

"I wish to go to the garden" asked Ursa, "We can rest in the afternoon breeze."

"You call that a garden?" asked Talion with a mischievous smile.

"My lord," she said with a slight frown, "It may not compare to that of Marwen's estate, but it is a garden all the same. Considering there was not a spot of green in Morn before we settled here, I think it is quite impressive."

"I'm only kidding," he said, "it will be a lovely way to spend the afternoon there."

* * *

The couple sat on a stone bench. Indeed, the garden was small, not more than thirty feet in length and twenty feet wide. Ursa had set up a wall of crossing wooden strips that ivy vines and tree branches now began to climb through. Several saplings had also taken root nearby and a large oak gave them shade. Around their feet were blue and white blossoms over luscious grass and moss. About them were grey stones, covered in an assortment of lichens and mosses. Finally, a duck pond was set up at the edge of the garden. So far only a few fowl had visited the water, picking at the grains the Warchief left for them.

Ursa looked up to the blue sky. The air was cool, as it always was on the coast. Although not against a great sea, Núrnen's basin was massive and to many it was the greatest body of water they would ever know. Many rain clouds found themselves trapped along the valley below and so settled over the sea. Although the cursed lands of Ered Glamhoth remained dry, the mountains were often snow covered and the collection of clouds would water the land of Núrn . As for the lake's own water, it poured in from upper Mordor without fail. Nurtured from all directions, this place was the paradise of Mordor. A grand garden amidst an even vaster desert. Ursa wanted dearly to protect it. She could not stand the thought of returning to Udûn, to the dust and ash. She wanted her daughter to be brought up in a land of trees, snow, and the morning dew.

Her baby began to cry again. Ursa said, "You must be hungry."

She pulled down the front of her robe and let one of her breasts slip out. She pressed her baby up to it and her daughter began to suckle. Ursa smiled as she saw her child drink so heartily of her milk.

"I can feed my child…" she thought to herself. She felt like a normal mother, no different than a mother of Gondor or an Orc mother with her brood. She felt a sense of pride overcome her and began to beam at nothing in particular.

Talion said, "She will need your milk for some time."

"I am sorry, but I am not familiar with this," asked Ursa, "When are we to we ween her off of it?"

Talion said, "Ioreth breastfed our son for six months."

"Six months. I see. And in my absence, I will send for a midwife."

Talion asked, "What absence might that be?"

"I have no doubt that Sauron will send Uruk. If not from Barad-dûr, then they will come from Thaurband or the Island of Carnan."

Talion smiled.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It never ceases to amaze me… I look upon you and you are such a small thing. And yet you set ablaze the black ships and you gave birth to Inga."

"I am strong…" she said, "Because I am not alone. And I will become as strong as I need be to protect you two from this storm."

"With a new ring and a bit of luck, we can create a future for her."

"My love, be careful," said Ursa, "The Dark Lord watches closely over the mountain. He is searching for you."

"Do not worry so. We are a phantom and a ranger. There is no stealthier pair." said Talion with a grin.

As Ursa finished feeding her child, Talion's arm wrapped around her. She blushed as he pulled her face against the side of his own. His other hand pressed against the tiny hand of Inga.

"What sort of person do you think she will grow up to be?" asked Ursa, "Will she be brave and adventurous? A lover of art or nature?"

Talion said, "I am sure she will be trouble just like her mother. I think she will be strong, kind, and full of life."

"So like her father then?"

Talion turned to the side and kissed Ursa on the cheek. The redness of her cheeks did not cease. Even if she was more confident, any acts of intimacy tended to fluster and excite her. His kiss sent her heart throbbing madly. However, she did not want his lips to go to waste. She quickly turned her head and leaned in. Her lips pressed tightly against his and she fell into passion. A surge of warmth ran through her as they exchanged kisses.

"I must be honest," said Talion, "Being with you like this… I am sorely tempted."

Ursa said, "M-my body is battered after giving birth. I am not sightly."

"Nonsense," said Talion, "However, if you feel ill or do not wish it, I will refrain."

"N-no!" she said, feeling embarrassed as her tone let out her desperation. In truth, she was pleased. It was usually she who asked for such encounters, and she had not dared in the last month.

"We must first tuck the baby in," she said, "After dinner would be best."

* * *

 **Warning: This paragraph involves sexual content. Skip past the line below to pass it.**

Talion looked out his bedroom window as a royal blue ran across the sky as the last traces of light left the world. He watched as bats darted about and chirped. He sighed as tried not to think about what he was to lose. He thought about asking the Wraith for more time, but he knew he would not have it. He knew that time was running out.

In that moment, he saw Ursa slip into the room, with a black gown on. She slipped it off in one motion, leaving her nude form visible before him. Talion himself was fully naked and she was saddened that he turned so quickly before she could fully enjoy the view. Instead, he moved up to her and put his hands around her wrists. He motioned her to lie down on her back. She began to breathe heavy as he was upon her.

She said, "My body is sore… please be gentle."

Talion said, "It will take time to heal. For now, I can do this much."

She moaned as she felt his lips upon her stinging breasts. They were tender and still swollen with milk. She let out a moan as he wrapped around her. Talion moved lower and placed his mouth above the nub at her lower lips. He knew she would not feel pain as he pleasured her at such a spot. Ursa's breathing became ragged and he heard her hiss as Orcs do. Looking up, her fangs were out, as was her tongue. He grinned mischievously and continued to kiss her intimately at her lower place. Her back arched as her claws dug into his thick, messy hair.

"Talion!" she let out, "Talion, I love you."

She was pushing him against her lower half as she gave into the madness and the pleasure. At last, she felt herself break. It was as if Talion was touching her entire being. The climax overtook her. She was filled with energy and then she was empty. She collapsed onto the bed panting, tired, and filled with love. Talion now climbed atop of her and took her into his arms. She moaned as she felt his manhood poke against her. She kissed the hardness of his arms and shoulder muscles. She ran her hand down the dip of his back and against his firm thighs. Meanwhile, he was kissing her neck and pointed ears. It was as if he was eating her up. Her own fangs were dangerously close to his flesh as she nibbled on his finger and let it slide into her mouth. Her hands moved lower as she stroked his shaft. It stiffened, grew, and pulsated so splendidly in her hand. Talion's lips clamped around hers as he reached his own climax. She relished in feeling it spill out between their flesh, and her mind wandered to the thought of having another baby. She quickly ignored this foolish impulse. Instead she wrapped her arms and legs around him as he embraced her. She fell asleep in his arms now, wanting to feel his touch forever. It broke her heart to know her ranger would be leaving her.

* * *

Ursa awoke to the cries of her daughter in the next room. She turned to see Talion was still fast asleep. She stretched and groaned. The half-Orc quickly put on her sleeping gown and glided gracefully over to the sound of the cries. She drew her baby up into her arms and patted her in the back.

"Easy now," she whispered to her child, "Mother is here. Father is here."

She saw Talion walking up to her.

He said, "I will tend to her. Return to bed and get some sleep."

Ursa said, "I will go to her when next she cries."

"Fair enough.,"

She saw Talion rocking the baby gently back and forth. He smiled as he looked down on her. She heard him begin to hum.

His song went, "When shadows fall, my voice recall. Here in your nest, do get some rest. Little bird… little bird… sleep soundly under my wing. Do not fear a sound, not a single thing."

It was an old rhyme of Gondor. Not of the royal houses, but sung by commoners.

Ursa smiled as she pulled the covers over her freezing body. She knew her child was in the best of hands, that Inga had a fine father. As her mind began to wander at the cusp of dreams, she thought of her own father holding her by a dying fire. Was he singing her to sleep? She squeezed on the mattress beneath her as she chided herself for the fantasy. It was not to be. Her father she would never know. It was for the best that it remained so. As a child, she had put aside such wishes. Only after being among the people of Gondor, did she dare dream. How wonderful it would have been if he had found her, if he sung her to sleep with peaceful lullabies. At least her daughter would have such blessings.

She heard Talion's humming continue, his tone of mirth and paternal love flowed through each chamber. It lulled her to sleep. Tonight, there would be no nightmares. She would dream of Talion all night long. She would dream that he had stayed by her side forever.

* * *

The crowing of a rooster far off in the farmlands reached Talion's ears. He slowly opened his eyes to find Ursa staring down at him with affection. Her long claws gently stroked against his cheek and chin. He groaned as he shifted about, trying to muster some strength in his body.

She said, "Rest a little longer, while breakfast is prepared for us."

"I must go," he said.

"It may be many weeks before you can enjoy a feathered pillow. Rest my lord."

She stroked his chin again and let her finger slide down his neck onto his bare chest. She twirled her finger on his firm flesh.

"That tickles" he whispered.

Ursa giggled and pulled up his blankets so they covered him up to his shoulders.

She then moved off of the bed and headed to the hall. She quickly walked up a set of stairs that led to the roof of the fortress. She recalled finding Talion there many months ago, before he sailed off to fight the Black Hand. They had fought heatedly, hopefully for the last time. Now, she felt there were no more secrets between them. However, Ursa had not come here to reminisce about the past. She came to greet the other man of her estate.

The first light of the east sent the sea of Núrnen aglow. The light stretched over the great wall of Fort Morn, illuminating it. Amongst the light on the tower, the pale form of the wraith seemed to vanish. Ursa stood in the shadows behind him, wondering at him as she always did. Although she had seen dark beast and magic, never had she known a being like him, illuminated and unending.

She said, "Good morning Lord Celebrimbor."

The Wraith slowly turned around. His cold eyes looked at her, but he said nothing.

She said, "I prepared you a horse, the strongest in the stables. With it, are the supplies you have asked for, and enough food for a week."

"Thank you," he said, "I will leave this domain to you. I have taught you what I can, but now you must defend it."

"It will be so my lord," she said, "I will not fail you."

She then asked, "Are you truly without issue, remaining here alone while we sleep in comfort?"

Celebrimbor said, "It has been thousands of years since I knew touch nor taste nor sleep. It does not matter to me, to spend a sleepless night in silence."

She said, "Yet I weep for you."

"Do not," he said, "I do not miss them. Not often. The flesh is weak, but the mind is strong. Such distractions… ah I move best without them."

"Even so," she said, "I wish it were not so."

The Wraith looked at her now, his illuminated eyes were without pupil but she knew his gaze was upon her. He frowned for a moment then turned away again to the horizon.

She then said, "Know that you have those who care for you. Talion and I are your friends and allies. Always will it be so."

"Ursa"

She heard him call her name. It caught her off guard. She had never heard him say it before. Always, he had addressed her as a lord to an underling. Now, she did not know how he saw her.

However, Celebrimbor did not say anything else. He vanished from her sight. She knew it was time to wake her husband. It was time for their departure.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Ursa of Fire, the final chapter in this series. This is, without a doubt, the longest of the three stories. As I have finished writing the rough draft, new chapters should be released every Saturday or Sunday. Please look forward to reading them!


	2. The Ranger of Núrn and the Journey

**Chapter Two: The Ranger of Núrn and the Journey to Mount Doom**

"I do not know a world without war, without fear of death, and without lamentation. Had I been born in Minis Tirith, perhaps I would have not known such horrors. Whether born royalty or peasant, I would have lived in peace. Alas, in Minas Ithil, born in Gondor's greatest keep over Mordor, we know only the grip of death. Here at the edge of Mordor, we can only wait and hold out against the darkness a little longer. May I find the courage to stand against it once more." – _an entry in Lady Idril's journal, during the siege of Minas Ithil_

* * *

Talion's horse stood up on two legs as it grew anxious for the journey ahead of it. A hard wind blew against Talion, sending his locks rippling in the wind. His cold, blue eyes looked up upon the fortress of Morn for the last time. He could no longer see her, but he knew Ursa was gazing back at him with Inga in her arms. He had not the heart to tell Celebrimbor nor Ursa what was on his mind. He would be away from her for at least four months if the horse rode true. He could not bear the thought of being away a day longer. Celebrimbor had warned him of such "distractions". However, Talion now find his heart and mind stolen from the war effort. It was more painful than it had ever been.

"I should be with them," he said.

Celebrimbor said, "Would you put them above all of Middle Earth?"

Talion asked, "Is it truly evil to do so? If one cannot place their family above others, is that not evil?"

"Talion," said the Wraith, "I will have this ring."

"I know. I know what I must do. It's just... I regained my life too soon. Perhaps you were right. Perhaps it was best I thought only of vengeance and death. The life I have reclaimed is precious to me. It calls to me amidst the horns of battle. I do not look to a perfect future. I have already found it with Ursa and Inga."

"Do not mistake Núrn for a paradise," said the Wraith, "Have you forgotten the Tower? The enemy will come again and your family will be divided by war. If you wish to truly be whole, then help me end this war. Slay the dark lord and break Mordor."

"I will break it," said Talion, "Forgive my moment of weakness. Though my heart is with them and it crushes me, my sword will forever be pointed at the enemy."

"Then let us be off," said the Wraith, "Ride hard. We must return quickly before Sauron sends an army to take Núrn. Now, let us be off to Gorgoroth, to the makings of our empire."

With that, the horse screamed out and charged to the north, towards the desert of Mordor. Although, it would have been less dangerous to take Núrn's maze of cliffs and canyons, they chose to stay on the main road. Many Orcs would pursue them, but the ground was flat, and the way was sure.

* * *

Ursa sighed as she saw the horse vanish against the morning fog that lay beyond her fortress. Upon the highest tower of the keep, the wind relentlessly whipped Ursa's hair into her face. She pushed her bangs to the side of her ear. She then began to stroke against the black leather eye patch. It was still strange to think that her eye was gone forever, missing and leaving only an empty socket. However, for all the pain it embodied, it served to make her look far more intimidating as a Warchief. War scars were a sign of a great Orc champion.

Ursa looked again to the wall of mist, saddened at the thought of the two of them venturing on such a perilous quest without her. Only half an hour before, he had been kissing her upon her forehead as he said his goodbyes. Now she could only wait and cling to memory. Unless he was reborn atop the ivory towers, she would believe his journey was successful.

Ursa's mind now turned to her surroundings. She looked to her fortress and found herself dissatisfied. She quickly called up one of her Orcs.

It was one of the captains of the now branded Warchief Zaxuleg.

He asked, "What is it my Queen?"

Ursa glared as she said, "There is much to do. The enemy is coming, and we are unready. It is time we prepared Núrn for war. Gather the Warchiefs and bring them to me!"

* * *

Talion's mount went down upon its knees and began to rest. It was exhausted from a three days ride. Talion himself collapsed onto a wool blanket and fell immediately to sleep. As for the Wraith, he kept watch through the night. In truth, a horse was slower than the Wraith could run. He could dash a league's length in moments. However, Talion's body was still human. Although his legs did not tear from the speed, he might succumb to fatigue, hunger, and thirst. Celebrimbor did not complain to the ranger of such things. As far as hosts went, he knew he had a hearty one. He could not imagine many heroes, even Elves, hunting out in Udûn for so long as they once did. Although Talion was dearly homesick, he was still a fearsome hunter. Even without the Wraith's power, he had out dueled and slain a thousand Orc. With swordsmanship alone, he had slain the Black Hand, an assassin who was said to have killed Istari, beings far greater than him. The union of the Wraith and the Ranger was a deadly one, one that threatened the Dark Lord's victory.

* * *

The Warchief, dressed in her black sorcery robes, walked back and forth in the square of the old slave market. Her five Warchiefs stood before her. Behind each leader awaited their captains. Each officer remained silent as they awaited her command. Ursa spun around and glared directly at them.

She said, "This land is beautiful. Were we without war, I would not pluck a single blade of grass from its pastures. However, war is upon us and we must secure our borders. It is time we fortified our defenses."

"Yes," said one of the Warchiefs excitedly, "No more sitting around! Let 'em come so we can crush them."

Ursa said, "I have laid out orders for all of you. There are thousands of Orc in Núrn, and all must be fully trained and ready for war. We will guard against the sea, against the Island of Carnán. We will lock down the road and end trade with Mordor. We will build small keeps along the edge of the villages. As for this fortress, it will be our last line of defense should we lose Núrn. Here we will construct trebuchets, archer nests, oil and fire spouts. Above all else, we will fortify the wall of this keep with adamant metal."

"Tear down the walls?" asked another Warchief, "Madness, that is! There isn't enough iron in Núrn to do it."

Ursa said, "I am sending companies of Uruk to Ered Glamhoth to strip the fortress of its steel."

"The cursed fortress?" the chieftain asked in horror.

She said, "Yes. How humorous that the fortress of despair will bring hope to our army."

She wondered if Sauron was watching her right now. In a way, she was possessed. He had spoken to her and seen into her mind. However, it seemed only in dream they were truly connected. What held her was more of his power than his mind. She hoped that this was true, and that Sauron was not watching spying on her plans for war. From what her worms told her, the Hammer's death had surprised him. The Hammer was as possessed as she was, so the Dark Lord should have known of her treachery. As for the Black Hand, her intuition told her that his death was different. They were close, he and the Dark Lord. The way Talion spoke of him made her wonder if the Black Hand was but an extension of his very being. And if that was true, then he now knew what had taken place in Núrn.

* * *

Almost a month had passed since Ursa's defenses began construction. Her entire fleet was in use as Adamant, the metal that made up Ered Glamhoth's walls, began to be shipped in. The metal was stronger than any other known, able to withhold the battering of war trolls and the stones of trebuchets. The finest Adamant, the black iron, was used at Barad-dûr. The Uruk that retrieved the metal were traded out for fresh Orc regularly. It seemed none wished to return to the Tower's haunted lands for a second trip.

Elsewhere, Ursa'sr preparations continued. She knew protecting Núrn was difficult. Fort Morn was large enough to hold over a thousand, but Núrns' population far exceeded that. This would mean that the other castles and smaller fortresses would be cut off if a large invasion took place. The enemy would have the advantage, begin able to surround smaller companies and able to burn Núrn's crops. All Ursa could think to do was to dig in defenses along the border and set up small watch towers for archers to guard. Barricades would be set up at different levels. Each fortress would have to hold enough supplies and rations to last a month should they face a siege. If an invasion took place, the defensive lines would slowly retreat until reaching the stone or wood walls of their Warchief's fortress. Ursa was not confident in these defenses. However, she knew that the advantage was on her side. She had a massive army, a huge supply of food, grand Warchiefs, and powerful sorcery to defend the realm. Indeed, Ursa was not afraid she would lose. She was afraid her lands would burn, and she would lose a good deal of her forces. Even worse, many innocent farmers and their families might die in the raids. If her defenses were not perfect, Sauron would need only strike again to finish her off.

* * *

Ursa sighed as she walked out of the latest meeting with her strategists and officers. Every day, she was either overseeing the construction efforts, making speeches to her Orcs as many were uneasy about betraying Sauron, or sitting through meetings that took half of the day. As Warchief, it was not horribly unusual. However, Ursa was a mother now too.

The Witch Queen made her way to her daughter's chamber. A nurse, one of Lithariel's maids, was playing with the baby. Her daughter was two months old now. She could not walk, but was becoming more lively and stirring her head. The baby giggled as the other woman shook a small bell in front of her face. The baby's hands reached out for it. Ursa smiled as she saw those tiny, nubby hands try to grab hold of the instrument. She had never realized how amusing babies were unto she had one herself. They were practically helpless, barely able to move, and their skin was soft as mud. For some reason, it made Ursa only want to pamper and protect Inga more.

"Welcome back my lady" said the maiden.

Ursa said, "Thank you for caring for her."

She turned to her child and said, "Your mother is here, Inga."

She poked her daughter on the stomach, being sure to be gentle enough not to cut her. She then pressed the finger against the baby's lips and the baby began to suckle on it. Ursa pulled her finger away as the child reached up.

"Such a beautiful girl you are," said Ursa..

"M'lady," said a husky voice of an Orc.

She knew him. It was the blue Orc Rag'luf, her favorite and most loyal attendant.

"What is it Rag'luf?" she asked softly.

He answered, "A young man has come to see you. He is from the deep mountains."

 _Marwen's domain_

"I see," she said, "Have him join me in the throne room."

* * *

Queen Ursa patiently awaited her guest's arrival. As she sat upon her throne, her right leg crossed over and rested on the left. She saw the massive front gate swing open as her guards escorted the stranger onward. She saw that it was indeed a young man, one with messy, long red hair and a pale freckled face. He looked to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old. He was dressed in a ragged tunic with black dirty pants and boots. Judging by his attire, he appeared to be a tribesman, but she couldn't be sure. What made her question it was the grey cloak around him that tied into a hood. In fact, he seemed something of a ranger, mirroring how Talion sometimes dressed.

She leaned forward now with curiosity. She knew from Queen Marwen that the Gondorians had long ago left Núrn, at least those that had not been wiped out by a plague. So why then was a young ranger before her?

He bowed before the queen of Orc and looked up at her majesty. His green eyes wandered across her features and then vanished again as he stood up.

He said, "G-greetings Queen Ursa."

 _Is he that revolted by my appearance?_

She spoke, "Hello traveler. Who might you be?"

He said, "I am Hallas, son of Faramir. My master is Orison, a ranger of East Núrn. I am grateful to have an audience with one so great. I must confess my coming here is of little importance."

She said softly, "Do not say it so. It pleases me to see men, not just Orc, grace my halls. Please continue."

Hallas said, "My master is grateful to you for defending the tribesmen against the Black Captain. He brought you a gift of spices and old-Gondorian silver."

"I am honored," she said, "I am delighted to show them to my husband. He was a ranger once."

She was excited at the thought of gifting them to Talion. Perhaps he would have knowledge on such cultural artifacts, and his eyes would light up as he spoke of them.

"Ah… a ranger. That is also why I am here. There is another reason I was sent," he said, "Orison is curious about your blood line. He heard that a half-Orc had taken power and married a ranger. He sent a short letter of inquiry. I apologize for the rudeness of it all."

She asked, "He wishes to know my bloodline? For what reason?"

"It is better… that you read it.."

The man walked up and handed the letter to Rag'luf. The Orc rubbed his ears as he inspected it for anything out of the ordinary, whatever that may be. However, given the boy was already disarmed before entering, there was little need for caution. Her servant brought the small piece of parchment to her. She untied the twine from it with a slash of her claws. The thread snapped and unraveled the scroll. Her eyes darted up and down as she read its contents.

The letter said:

 _Greetings Ursa, Warchief of Núrn_ _and Queen of the Orc._

 _Please forgive my rudeness on sending the boy in my place, but I am overcoming an illness. Word has reached me that you are born of Orc and man. A dwarf with a talkative tongue spoke of the ranger Talion and his house. When I asked him, he explained your birth. He said that you were born deep in Mordor, in the goblin city. An Orc of white flesh and hair black as night. Hearing that, I could only think of the she-Orc who was my captor-_

Ursas's eyes fell from the letter for a moment. She remembered the wrinkled face of her mother. As little as she resembled her, Ursa had inherited her skin and hair. Pale orcs were not unheard of, but they were rare. Lights-skin was as common among Orcs as dark-skin. However, skin of pure ivory was seen in only a few tribes. Her heart began to race madly knowing that Orison was a ranger. Her eyes returned to the letter.

 _I am sure you do not wish to know me. Aye, I am certain of it. Those memories are shrouded in darkness I have never been able to escape. Even so, if there is a chance that I am your father, I will see you if you wish. If you find me mistaken, please send my servant away and accept my apologies for this troubling dialogue. If not, then I wish to meet you. If I have angered you or offended you, I do apologize. Please do not punish the boy. If any should be punished, it should be I, the conspirator. I am grateful for your audience, oh great Queen._

Ursa began to roll up the letter.

 _He fears me. Even so, he sought an audience today._

Her mind was clouded now. It had been so sharp the last few months. But suddenly, she was a small Orc again, utterly starving and living aimlessly in a frozen hut on the edge of Gorgoroth.

She looked at Hallas who seemed fearful.

She said, "I thank you for delivering this letter. I would go to see this man at once."

"I see." said the young man, "His illness should be passed by now. Ah, please forgive any insult by my master."

He quickly planted his head onto the ground as he lay prostrate. It seemed that no matter how goodnatured her reputation was, the people of the land still considered her a dangerous Orc. Then again, her reputation was also one of fire and a bloody claim to power.

Ursa said, "Please do not fear me. If what he says is true, then I am grateful. You must be tired from the journey. I would have you rest and eat as a guest in my house. Once you have eaten, I hope you will lead me to this man."

* * *

Ursa rode upon her black stallion as it carried her swiftly across the green pasture and hills. The Witch Queen felt aching guilty for vanishing on the eve of battle. However, she would not delay such an important meeting. She needed to see him. She needed to know. She had lived her entire life telling herself it did not matter, that she was better off not knowing. However, in that very moment, he meant everything to her.

"Father…" she whispered.

She wondered if she could call him that. If it were even true. Such a strange word. One that she never uttered aloud. One that so many took for granted. Ursa sighed and pulled on her reigns. Flanking her on both sides was a host of bodyguards. The boy Hallas tugged on his own reigns and made off at a brisk pace. If they wished to reach the edge of Marwen's domain before nightfall, they would have maintain such speed.

* * *

As the chirping of crickets permeated the air, the small entourage of horses reached their destination. They had ridden deep into the woods, passing the Queen's castle and a nearby village. Only then did they reach a single house hidden behind a wall of pines and underbrush. There the Uruk saw a house made of old grey wood and a hay roof. A horse was tied up nearby, onto what appeared to be a chicken coup.

Ursa dismounted, handing the reigns to a servant. She stretched her aching bones and panted hard. While certainly she was stronger than she used to be, her body was still easily fatigued by a few hours of horseback riding.

Hallas stretched his legs before hurriedly running to the door of the house. The young man hastily prepared to knock on it.

Ursa said, "Wait… I will call for him."

"Of course," said the boy.

She slowly strode up to the door and stared at it in contemplation. There was no denying she was afraid. Even if he sought her out, she did not believe he truly wished to see her. Finding Ursa was meant only to resolve his past. She could offer him no happiness. She would never be his daughter. If he saw her, he might reject her. He might become angered. Or perhaps, her very presence would sicken him, bringing back painful memories.

Ursa was never loved in her youth. In Gondor, her conception would have been seen not just as a tragedy, but as an abomination. In the land of Orcs, it was a source of endless shame. To be a half-Orc was to live a half-life. You were branded by all other Orcs as an impure thing. While Orc folk did not care for a romance, the union of Orc and man was distasteful to them. It was not something to be brought up. It was hidden away even though it was evident as day. Ursa was born of rape. She was born of her mother's twisted ambition and evil. However, Ursa no longer hated herself. She had found someone who loved her, who thought she was beautiful and strong. She had come to love herself and found happiness that even the more fortunate would not know. Even more, Ursa understood that no matter her origin, her own life was no evil thing. Even so, she was afraid to see him. There was no escaping the knife that twisted in her stomach. The shame of what happened. The branding that marked her childhood. The fear of being rejected not just by her mother, but by her father as well.

Ursa's hand remained frozen as she considered turning away. In the end, it might be better if the subject was discussed simply over letter. There was no need for them to meet face to face.

 _No._

 _I will not run._

 _No matter where I came from, I am here. I will not live in shame._

Ursa's gaze become full of fire and she tapped the edge of her knuckles against the door. She heard someone scrambling to their feet inside. They were knocking over items. In a moment, they had reached the door.

"Hallas," asked a gruffy voice, "Hallas, is that you?"

"It is I" said Hallas from behind her, "I have returned with Queen Ursa."

The door slowly opened up. Ursa's hand clasped at her chest before she froze entirely. Her heart was pounding madly as she awaited him. She could see the feint shadow of a man standing there. He moved a few inches forward and looked at her. He had long, ragged blond hair and an unkempt beard. He appeared to be in his late forties, although he could have been younger.

"Queen… Ursa," he said as he prepared to bow.

"Please do not bow," said Ursa.

The man said nothing as he gazed at her. His eyes were frozen on her features, no doubt trying to comprehend her mixture of goblin and human traits.

She said, "I would speak with you… alone."

The man nodded and said, "Of course."

She walked in after him and shut the door. Outside her bodyguards were uneasy. Leaving her with a ranger, a warrior trained to slaughter Orcs, was madness. However, none would dare oppose her. Her order was absolute, spoken with the utmost authority and power.

* * *

"Please sit down," said the ranger as he poured her out a cup of mead.

"Ah…" he suddenly said, "Forgive me. I have no drink nor food fit for a Warchief."

She said, "Orison… I will gladly break bread with you. Only I must first know. I know the subject is… painful… but please tell me what you can so I can be certain."

The ranger poured himself a cup of alcohol and drank the entirety of the it down. He then sat down and stared at the table top. His hands was clenched onto his cup. Ursa said nothing as she waited upon his words.

He said, "I was a ranger outside of the Black Gate. You must know that we have wrestled for control of the Black Gate for centuries. At times, Gondor claimed it. At others, the Orc took it back. After a Warchief of Udûn captured the Black Gate, he sometimes sent Orcs out to hunt Caragor or to capture men of the wall… made us slaves. One night, the Orcs swarmed us. It was so dark. It was raining. I still remember their shrieks, as they slit the throats of my comrades. I was dragged to a prison camp… into the land of shadow and ash. I do not know how many weeks I marched until I reached the goblin city. I was traded to a goblin woman of white skin and black hair who knew some words in Westron. I never learned her name and I never want to. She was cruel, even for an Orc. She had me bound and said I was to… she wanted a child… a strong half-breed."

He then gulped. For a minute, he did not say anything. Ursa did not dare touch him. She merely waited for him speak again.

Orison said, "I tried to escape. I tried to fight her but… I… I…"

Ursa said, "I understand. Tell me, how did you survive?"

He said, "After it was over, she wanted to use me for labor. I found a few other slaves and put together an escape plan. She said she was with child, but my blood was needed again and again. I had to get away. We killed the guards and ran into the deep desert. Their hunters picked us off one by one. Their Wargs ripped us to shreds. Then Gondor answered. While I was prisoner, the rangers had taken back control. Many good men had lost their lives but the Black Gate was ours. They must have heard the war dogs and come to our rescue. However, I couldn't stay in Gondor. I was… ashamed. I took a horse and headed back through the gate. I rode into Núrn, knowing the tribes would accept me. Another man… a ranger called Faramir, guilty of cowardice followed me into exile. Perhaps we went to die. Perhaps we went to live. It didn't matter. I chose solitude. Well, the Orcs were here too. Faramir died shortly after we built this house."

"His son… Hallas".. said Ursa.

"Aye," said Orison, "I knew what I had to do. Trained him good like a proper ranger of Gondor. Like his father. "

"My lady," said the man, "What do you know of your father?"

Ursa's eye fell upon him as she looked at his face. She could not see herself in him. Even so, she felt her vision becoming blurry. Her throat felt swollen and her stomach felt rotten.

She said, "My mother was an Orc… of white skin and black locks… by the goblin city, she purchased a slave ranger… to give birth to me. That man… escaped. Never to be seen again."

She began to choke on tears. She sniffled as she was overrun by all manner of emotions.

"It cannot be," she heard him say under his breath. He then quickly stood up and walked over to her. Ursa gulped and stood up. She faced him now as she saw a stream of tears run down his cheeks.

Without breath, she said, "I am so sorry for what she did to you. I wish I could be your daughter, not born of pain but of happiness. My mother was a devil. She hurt us both. Nonetheless, I do not strive to be as she was. I would never do something so awful. I have spent much time trying to save the men of Gondor… to free them from the bondage you knew. I do not know if you can look upon me without sorrow or hatred, but you are my father…. I… I…"

What could she say to make this better? To make it alright? Ursa was without words.

"Ursa…" she heard him utter.

His arms wrapped around her as he pulled in her up to his shoulder. Her eye widened with shock. She felt herself overcome by warmth.

He whispered, his voice breaking, "I do not hate you. I have a daughter. A wonderful daughter."

"You need not lie. If you feel disgust, I would know it." she said.

He trembled as he said, "I cannot forget the pain, the torment of those days. Even so, I cannot hate you. I had many years to think upon it until the day came that I dared to wonder at your fate. Then I heard of the Orc Queen and I wished… Aye, I wished that you could be my daughter."

"Father…" she uttered, "I wanted to see you! Everyday! I was so lonely… and I would dream that I was with you on a hunt for game. Even though I was an Orc, even though you were a ranger…. I wanted my father."

She cried out into his arms. The cries of a little Orc who did not know love. Of an Orc that knew only shattered dreams she clung dearly to. Her father's tears fell against her back. Her long hair soaked up his tears as he wailed. At last, she pulled away and looked upon him again. With a bittersweet smile, she gazed on her father. He wiped at his nose and then stepped back a foot.

"I have a fine daughter," he said, "A queen. A queen married to a hero amongst men, a ranger. You have born a child. You protected the free folk of these lands. How proud I am!"

Ursa said, "I am reminded again of my blessings. I have a husband who loves me, a daughter strong and healthy, and a father who found me."


	3. The Ring's Forging and the Queen's Favor

**Chapter Three: The Forging of the Ring and the Queen's Favor**

"Three Rings for the Elven Lords under the Sky

Seven for the Dwarf Lords in their halls of Stone

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the Land of Mordor where the shadows lie..."

\- _Poem from There and Back Again and The Lord of the Rings_

* * *

Evening quickly overtook the valley where the old ranger made his home. Ursa and her father continued to talk, until their throats were parched and exhaustion set upon them.

Ursa told him, "You are welcome to live in my fortress, both you and your apprentice. I would… I would love for my daughter to be near her grandfather."

Orison furrowed his brows as he thought upon her request.

He said, "I came here to find peace. Leaving it behind for the chaos of a kingdom, for war… is a frightful thought. Then again, perhaps I have been idle for far too long. I still have some life in me yet."

As Ursa's eyes froze, anxious from his answer, he then turned to the door and said, "Oh… Hallas. I will have to ask him. I cannot forsake his training. If he would accompany me to your keep, then I will do so."

"I see," said Ursa, "Oh no… I fear we've left them waiting for too long. Might we invite them in?"

"Yes," said Orison.

Ursa opened the door and her Uruk stirred. They had been standing on guard for a while. Four guarded the door while another four were scouting the area. As for Hallas, he was propped right up against the door. When the door opened, he jumped back in embarrassment.

"I wasn't listening," he said, "I was only waiting for an answer."

Ursa said, "Please come inside. All of you. The air is cold and we may be here a little longer."

The ranger poured a cup of tea for all of his guests. He also prepared some cheese, berries, and slices of honey cake. Ursa smiled as she was handed the quaint desert. She daintily cut into it with a fork and savored its sticky, sweet taste. She hadn't much experience with the earthy, hearty foods of outer Gondor. Despite the similarities to the culture of the tribesmen, this particular treat was not one of their recipes. Her eye wandered over to her guards. She saw them sulk as they ate the mild-tasting foods. Their taste buds were more aligned with salty cuts of meat, breads dipped in red sauces, and the burning taste of grog. As for Hallas, he quickly devoured his food, this despite Ursa feeding him a large lunch before the venture.

* * *

At last, Orison asked her, "I have told you my story. I wish to know yours my daughter."

Ursa said, "I will tell you it in great detail at another time, when my wits are at their best. For now, I will say that I lived in the goblin city with my mother until she died of sickness. I was not welcome there. Simply being half-Orc was enough to see my exiled. I wandered Mordor for many years. To survive, I stole food and water. When I could bear it no more, I slipped over to the world of men, to a town outside of Minas Tirith. There I also found I was not welcome. I was seen as a witch. By luck, I returned to Mordor when the Black Gate was under the control of the Warchief Thrag Stonebearer and ah… I am sorry. I should not have worded it that way."

Her father said, "Thrag… the first Warchief of Mordor. To the Orc, he must seem a hero. However, it was he that slew many of my friends."

Ursa said, "He perished in battle many years ago."

Orison said, "I see. Do not fear nor apologize. I am aware that the Black Gate was in unrest long after my exile. And it will be again. One day, Gondor will see it done."

She did not know what to say to this. The thought of Gondor controlling outer Mordor was not a displeasing thought. Even so, Ursa did not dream of Gondor's victory nor the victory of the Orc. She dreamt of a victory of Talion and herself over the Dark Lord, but not of man over Orc. She dreamt of peace between them. In her mind, Mordor belonged to the goblins and should stay that way just as Gondor belonged to man. Moreover, places like the Black Gate should one day be a place where Orc and men lived side by side if they desired. Ursa would not say this to her father. Like Talion, he was still a ranger. To do so, might insult him and those that died defending the Black Gate.

Ursa said, "Of course. As it was, I slipped into the Black Gate and journeyed to Udûn. After slaying a prized Caragor, I was accepted into a legion by a good friend… a Uruk known by the name of Isulek. After our captain died, Isulek allowed me to become captain. It was no easy task. Always other captains and Warchiefs bullied me; Olg and Belos especially. I was at wits end when Olg decided to execute me and claim my war camp. That was when I met him… the Ranger. I knew I should have been afraid of him, but I… to me he was hope. He stole my thoughts with his dashing looks and his loyalty. Talion, possessed by an ancient spirit, sought revenge and victory against Mordor. He sought an ally in the Dark Lord's ranks. Though treasonous, I believed our paths were not so different. I wished to be Warchief and to see Orcs enter a peaceful age. Talion wished for an ally and an end to Sauron's reign. In time, he brought that dream of mine to fruition and I had my chance to fight for the title of Warchief. I won it. I was made Warchief. After that, Talion slew the Hammer, son of Sauron, and I was forced to flee to Núrn, but not without a new power gained by touching the weapon. In Núrn, we allied with Queen Marwen. We created an army and took control of the Warchiefs. That is my story."

"That is… quite an adventure," said her father, "Almost unbelievable I must say. I look forward to hearing all the details one day. I must ask… how were you able to control so many Uruk? Surely the Warchiefs were loyal to Sauron?"

Ursa's expression became uncomfortable as she admitted, "It is Talion's power. Nay, the power of the Wraith within him to bend the mind of others. A terrible power, but one needed to unite the Uruk. To slay the Dark Lord."

"I see. I understand now that he truly is a Gravewalker."

"Although a corpse," said Ursa, "He still gave me a daughter. You will favor Talion. He is a ranger much like you."

"I see," said her father, "I much look forward to meeting him."

Ursa's tone became rather sour as she said, "I am afraid he is away on a quest. It will be many months before his return."

She pressed a hand on her cheek as she pouted and said, "It's not fair, leaving me alone here."

Hallas suddenly asked, "Have you no one else?"

Ursa said, "I have Inga. Of that I am grateful. There are many servants and allies in my keep. Alas, no match for Talion's company."

Orison said, "Hallas, the kind Queen Ursa has invited us to live at her palace. The forest will be far, but your training need not end. Aye, I will continue to train you in the arts. What say you?"

The young man's eyes lit up as he said, "Truly? To live in a castle? I would be honored."

"No thought at all into it," said Orison, "Bah, I will not complain. If that is your answer, we will join the Queen."

Ursa clapped her hands and said, "Wonderful! I will prepare two rooms for you. In two days' time, I will send for a cart to fetch your things and take you to Fort Morn. There you will live in peace, although war looms overhead. Even so, I think you will find it a life of comfort."

"It is a chance to better know my daughter," said Orison, "That aside, a life of comfort sounds good. I'm afraid Hallas will not get to live the life of cold winters and the stench of swine I promised him."

"I will manage somehow" said his apprentice.

* * *

For Ursa, the next several days flew by. Despite her anticipation of her father's arrival, she found herself swarmed by her duties as a queen and mother. The plating of Fort Morn had proven extremely difficult as the adamant iron proved nightmarish to handle. It was of such weight that only a few pieces could be loaded onto a ship. It required cranes and hoists to be built in Ered Glamhoth. And while Ursa had hoped to bolt it onto a metal frame on the wooden walls of Morn, the Mordor iron proved too heavy. Ursa was forced to include a new metal frame outside of the wooden wall to properly secure it. The entire effort would take months if not years. This meant that Fort Morn would not be ready for a siege. As such, Ursa transferred her efforts on securing the border into completing Fort Morn. A thousand Uruk were now building the metal walls. Her architects believed it would take six months to complete. As such, Ursa could only hope that Mordor's invasion was a poor one. In any case, she would need to engulf them in fire before they could ever reach her keep.

* * *

The afternoon of the third day was upon her. Ursa carried her daughter in a sling as she walked down the entrance of her fortress. Despite her involvement in the defenses, she had devoted much of her time to her daughter. Ursa wanted to be around her as much as she could.

"Look there," said Ursa in a soothing voice to Inga, "Your grandfather is coming to live with us. There he is now."

She turned the sling slightly so her daughter stirred and faced the road ahead. A group of tribesmen were hauling in a series of wagons. The back two wagons carried Orison's effects such as his paintings, wood carvings, his weaponry, and a cabinet of seasoning. As for most of his furniture, he had left it behind. Instead, he decided to load an entire cart with his cages of chicken. Ursa had promised him she would have his coup taken apart and rebuilt in her fort's personal farm. As for Hallas and Orison, they were seated on the the wagon leading the train. Orison's eyes were fixed upon the maiden standing in front of him. As for the boy, he looked up in awe at the fortress before him, never having seen it so near.

It was only a few minutes before the caravan reached them. The Queen, surrounded by a host of armored guards, stood before her new guests. Her eyes were filled with affection as her father drew near. The old man embraced her with a warm hug. He then pulled back and looked upon her.

He said, "It was but a year ago that this place was one of torment and death. Now it's my daughter's kingdom. I am certain the people of this land will look on it with hope."

Ursa said, "I hope so too, only I fear it will look more frightening than ever once it is complete."

Orison looked to the large construction effort to his right, where rusty iron walls with bladed spikes were being unloaded.

He said, "Ah, you may be right. Bah, let us go inside. I hope the room will be larger than my cabin."

"Of course…F-Father," said Ursa, feeling embarrassed all of the sudden.

Hearing the awkwardness in her own voice made Ursa wonder if Orison was putting on a bit of a show. Was he as comfortable with her as he acted? She understood now that people were complicated. Even if they loved someone, they could still hold grudges or be afraid of them. If so, Ursa wanted to prove to him that she was a good daughter and a just queen.

* * *

Ursa watched as the master and the apprentice traded blows. She was standing in the back of the training center, in a corner away from where the Orcs sparred each day. She stood beside a training dummy, holding Inga in her arms. Both mother and daughter watched Orison swing a rebated sword, dulled at the edge, at his swift apprentice. Hallas connected his dulled sword with his master's and then pulled the edge over it so that he could stab at his throat. However, his master pulled back and slid the back of his sword forward, hammering the boy in the chest with the pommel ever so lightly.

Orison said, "You handle the edge well yes. Shame you keep lowering your defenses when you prepare a killing blow. Now lad, let's go again."

"Yes sir," said the young man. He swept back his long red hair and put his sword to the side, ready to bat away a downswing. Again, the two men artfully dueled. After another ten minutes, Orison ended the lesson.

He walked up to Ursa and said, "Thank you again for giving us a corner away from the Orcs."

She said, "Of course. It must be strange living alongside them."

"Aye," he said, "Sends a shiver up my spine seeing them gaze at me like that. Even with Talion's curse, I fear they will make a lunge at me if I get too close."

Ursa said, "They will not. Any attack on a neighbor will have them jailed for a month. If they kill a man, they are banished from my territories of Núrn."

"A good law," he said, "I hope they keep to it."

She said, "You are safe here, Father. The true enemy is what marches on our borders."

He nodded and walked away, heading to an outdoor bath to wash up. As for Hallas, he hesitated to follow after his master. He turned but stopped. He then looked back at Ursa. When she saw him staring at her, she gave him a warm smile and returned to rocking her child in her arms. The young man seemed deep in thought and then approached her.

He said, "Queen Ursa, I wished to thank you once again for inviting me here. For one as lowly as me, to live in a castle like royalty is an honor."

She asked, "Why should you not live in such a place?"

He said, "Forgive me. I only think... well… I am not of noble birth nor a great officer. I am but the son of a lowly ranger. What right have I to be here?"

Ursa marveled at his words of royalty and birthright. Even though she had lived amongst Gondorians, their customs and idea of the right to rule were so different from the Orc. They believed in kings that were not elected or promoted. Rather they inherited the crown from their father. In Mordor, their dark lord was immortal, as were many of his lieutenants. As for Black Captains and Warchiefs, there was no guarantee their sons would replace them. Positions of power were given to the accomplished, to those worthy of it. While loyalty was rewarded, ultimately power was the deciding factor. While Ursa did not care for duels, she thought it made sense for kings to be the person most fit to rule. He should be the kindest, the smartest, and the bravest. If Gondor's captains were chosen based on merits, why wasn't a king? Perhaps it was that reason that the line of kings had failed, she wondered. Immediately, she chided herself as her power owed much due to conspiracy, assassination, alliance, and borrowed sorcery. Even so, she wanted to believe that a simple farmer, that an orphan like Hallas had the potential to be a great king.

She said to Hallas, "I too am not of royal birth. As queen, I will admit to seeking to keep this power and expecting my orders to be absolute. However, my title does not make me greater than anyone. If I could, I would give all of Núrn the same life I enjoy here. I say this as I do not wish you to see me as your Queen and you, a lowly servant. You are here because you ought to be. Why should you be unworthy to enjoy such a life?"

He said, "That is the way it always has been. I mean you no disrespect. Although you are not of noble birth, I could never amount to the same, just as none of the tribesmen could match Queen Marwen."

Ursa said, "Perhaps you are right, I do not know. Even so, I do not believe it. I wish for your company, as does your father. And if you believe you are unworthy, then you need only prove yourself by being a man you can be proud of. Become a fine ranger like Orison expects of you. Become a fine ranger for me."

Hallas blinked as his cheeks turned a deep red. He suddenly looked towards his feet.

"If that is the Queen's request, then I will train to be a great ranger."

"It is." she said, "Although, your company is enough to please me."

He again felt his ears beginning to heat up.

He looked up at her and said, "I am grateful for your kindness my queen. I did not expect it."

"Because I am half-Orc?" she asked.

"Err… yes. I mean… my apologies. I understand now that you are kind and fair. You are truly beautiful. Your husband has great fortune."

Ursa herself now turned red at his words. She wasn't used to hearing such compliments from men other than Talion. She put a hand to her cheek bashfully and smiled at him, sending his heart even more aflutter.

She said playfully, "My my. Such kind words. I am happily married I'm afraid."

"Of course!" he said, "I only meant flattery, no malicious intent."

Ursa giggled and glowed at him as she said, "I see. Please enjoy your stay here Hallas."

"I- I will."

He quickly ran over to Orison who slapped him on the back of the head for bothering the queen with his strange remarks.

* * *

The mountain of fire was silent as the ranger made his approach to the summit. They had ridden with haste for more than a month, all in order to reach the heart of Mordor. Here the air was toxic and filled with black smoke. In the sky above, they saw a canopy without a sun, moon, and stars. They no longer knew if it was day or night. A veil of black clouds had hidden it from their sight. Here, the earth had turned a deep brown and black. Here, not a drop of water nor the bud of a seedling prospered. From great cracks in the ground, smoke arose. All around them, heat was escaping. At times, all of Mordor would tremble as another breath of fire was exhaled from the peak of Mount Doom. He would send plumes of smoke up into the air and fiery rocks like falling stars to the earth below.

"Be silent here above all places," said the Elf to his host, "There will be many guarding the entrance to the forge."

Talion nodded as he slipped past another patrol. He pulled up a grey scarf over his mouth to filter out some of the deadly fumes.

Celebrimbor continued, "If we are seen, the agents of the Dark Lord will be upon us."

"More Black Captains?" asked Talion as feint as a whisper.

"No, much worse," said the Wraith, "Although endowed with great power, they cannot compare to Sauron's chosen. They are the dead kings. The ring wraiths. Nazgul."

"So they do exist," thought Talion. It was more of a sarcastic remark to himself. There had been reports of them invading Gondor in the past and the Orcs sometimes mentioned them. However, they had not been seen in his lifetime. Moreover, they had been absent in all of his dealings with Mordor. He wondered why Sauron had not sent them until now.

Celebrimbor said, "Indeed, Yes, they are wraith like me. Yet their minds are bound to Sauron, bound to his ring. It was I who forged the rings that imprisoned them… though I did not know until the very end. They are immortal, relentless, and quick as lightning. All are masters of fear. As the world of men falls and succumbs to despair, they grow ever stronger. Greatest of all is the Witch King of Angmar. Talion… do no underestimate him. He is a warrior without equal, a fine tactician, and a master of dark sorcery. If we see him, it is best we flee. Even with the ring, I do not know if we can defeat him."

Talion scowled at hearing the Wraith's words. They were not what he wanted to be thinking about right now. In fact, he wished the Wraith to be silent. While the Orcs could not hear him, Talion needed to be focusing solely on remaining out of sight.

The Wraith then added, "We must grow more powerful. By siphoning my power into the ring, we can amplify it and double our own. It will allow us to unlock our full potential, we need only realize and train the powers I obtain."

Talion knew that the subject of power was a complicated one. All of the powers Talion used were ones that Celebrimbor wielded in life, powers granted by the One Ring. As a Wraith, he only mimicked that sorcery, perhaps because of his involvement in its forging. With Talion as his host, he was forced to slowly regain his former power, something that came about with each victory. When it was time, Talion could feel it resonate within him. Now the ranger wondered if it were possible to obtain powers that were not mere imitations of Sauron's own. Would their ring only amplify what they already knew, or would it allow them to create something new? Either way, the answers lied in Mount Doom.

Talion slipped behind a pair of Orc guards. They quarreled about which Orc tribe had the best armor, unaware of the assassin behind them. Talion quickly thrust his dagger into the back of one guard's neck. As the guard gasped, Talion wrapped his arm around the throat of the other. The Orc struggled and gagged, pulling at the ranger's arm and trying to gouge out his eyes. However, from the angle, it was impossible. The ranger was far stronger than the small Orc's twig-like limbs. Both guards now lay dead and Talion could see the entrance to the mountain. He would need to slay another dozen Orcs along the way, but it would be simple work. Of far more concern was whether Celebrimbor could recreate the former ring. The One Ring owed much of its perfection to Sauron and his unending vault of magic. Would the Wraith truly be able to do the same?

* * *

The Wraith took form around his host and pulled out his silver hammer. He had used it to forge many rings in his days as an Elf lord. Nay, it was but an imitation. The true hammer he had abandoned as a relic of his past. It held too many painful memories. Simply seeing it was enough for him to remember the death of his loved ones and how the Dark Lord had split open his head with it. Even so, the memory sufficed for the wraith's energy to take this form, for it to reach the mortal world. He held, in his hand, a thin bar of silver. Yes, if Sauron had taken gold for his ring, he would use its sister ore. Cold of the moon to contrast the heat of the sun. Such weak metals were nothing on their own. He would need to twist and endow it.

Talion flinched as he strode towards the magma of Orodruin. The volcano's molten ores boiled like a stew. However, a bridge of stone stood over it, granting a painful passage to the foolhardy. No Orcs dared to approach it lest they be singed by the heat or knocked into its froth by a sudden quake. However, Talion was shielded by the cold of the Wraith. Even so, he felt the heat scorch him. He saw the Wraith forge a tong of light and an anvil beside it. Born from memory, his forge took form. They stood at the very edge of the bridge, overlooking the depths. In that moment, Talion felt a sudden sense of doubt. He wondered if he was making the right decision. However, he could not go back empty handed. There was no turning back now, even if he fell into darkness.

* * *

For hours, they slaved at the forge. Celebrimbor, the Elven prince, forged one last ring. With perfect skill and without blunder, he formed it. He softened the silver and bent it. In time, the split in the ore vanished and it was whole. He would vanish and dip the metal into the fires of Mordor. He would return and begin to hammer it. His ivory tool came smashing down onto the ring, onto the anvil. Talion feared that Mordor would soon know of their trespassing. Each swing sent sparks flying and deafened the air with a piercing shriek. Each swing illuminated the anvil with Elvish writing. He felt Celebrimbor growing weaker as he tied his very soul to the ring, as his power was poured into it. The new weapon of war was smelted with the red fires of Mount Doom and the white fires of the Wraith. Soon, a beautiful ring was born. Under moonlight that crept through the dome of the volcano, its true power was shown in the Sindarin inscription. White words said:

"You shall have light undiminished,

All shall fear me and rejoice."

"No longer will I mourn," said Celebrimbor softly, "It is time for a new age."

With a final strike, a great blast was carried through the lava chamber. It shook the entire mountain. Talion felt the last of the Wraith's power enter it. It was complete.

The ring of the Bright Lord was forged and his kingdom was at hand.


	4. The Spider's Web and the City in Peril

**Chapter Four: The Spider's Web and the City in Peril**

"I will devour and continue to devour, like my mother before me. I will spin my webs and catch the wanderers of the dark. That is my way. It is my way to feed and survive. Even so, I yearn for what I cannot have. I do not know if what I seek is to devour the light as she did or if it is a desire for something more. I wonder if the day will come when I need not hide in shadows, but may spin my web proudly in the light." – _Shelob reminiscing to Gollum_

* * *

"It is finished," said Celebrimbor.

Talion said, "Then let us leave this place. Having this ring of power so close to Sauron makes me uneasy."

'Indeed," said the Wraith, "If he knew, he would send out the Nine to fetch it. Such a battle would be premature. Let us be off. We have our prize."

In that moment, Celebrimbor marveled at its beauty. He held it between his fingers, enamored by his own craftsmanship. Finally, a ring to outmatch Isildur's bane! He found himself excited at the thought wearing it, at feeling his power returned to him tenfold. In this moment, his mind was taken by the ring. He did not notice what crept up from above. A long silver web was slowly sending down a spiderling. Well, to many the creature was already overgrown, but it was indeed but a child. It was silent as it wriggled its legs and lowered itself down its thread. The spiderling latched onto the ring and tied its web around it, netting it to its body. The Wraith's eyes were wide with shock. He watched in bewilderment as it scurried to the side of the great bridge. It crawled beneath the stone and vanished, likely burrowing into a crack in the mountain.

The ranger and his phantom were both stricken with disbelief. In a single moment, all of their plans were shattered. Celebrimbor now vanished from sight and began to search about the volcano's empty lava chamber. He felt his ring moving, but something was clouding his mind. It was a dark magic. In the end, his search was in vain. Talion hid beside the entrance to the chamber, fearful that goblins would be upon them. It was then he saw another spider crawl into the doorway, followed closely by those much smaller than it. Being a man of the wild, he had seen many spiders. This one, however, was quite large. It was over a foot in length with a lower half that was painted in many colors.

The Wraith said, "Ungol. A spider of Mordor. They are an unnatural thing."

Suddenly, two more crept up beside the large one, these of equal size. Dozens of smaller fledglings, only a few inches in size, flooded the entrance. Finally, the leader of the brood appeared, a beast nearly three feet in length. It was large enough to take down a grown man. This one seemed different. It had black horns on its back and a pair of toothy jaws. It seemed less spider than monster.

The spider suddenly did something they did not expect. It bowed, lowering its front legs.

She said, "Greetings… my lords. Forgive us… for our theft."

Talion asked, "It… it speaks?"

The Wraith was less interested in this and asked, "Where is the ring? Return it or suffer."

"It is taken… through the cracks… in the ground… to our mother's lair. She is hiding… in a cave nearby. I will… take you to her."

Talion said, "You wish us to follow you… into a spider's web? Do you take us for fools?"

The spider replied, "She will… return your ring… only once… you've seen her."

The Wraith said, "Very well. Take us to her."

Talion whispered, "Are you certain about this?"

"Without that ring," said the Wraith, "We are powerless. I poured my very being into it. I will not let it slip away."

"And if it's a trap?"

The Wraith said, "Either way, their queen will die."

* * *

Talion found the wraith to be uncharacteristically blood thirsty. It was not like him to be rash nor to forsake strategy. However, Talion shared the Elf's anxiousness. He feared the spiders would take the ring down some pit or rocky labyrinth never to be seen again.

And so the duo followed the trail of spiders through the dark of Mordor.

The journey to the spider's lair was not far. She was nesting in one of Mordor's many pits. This one reeked of death. As Talion entered it, he was overcome with the stench of dead goblins and other carrion. He saw about him skeletons and skins… skins of orcs, of young Caragor, and of cattle. However, these bodies were only about a dozen. This spider had only recently made her home here.

Soon enough, they found themselves surrounded by utter darkness. This meant little as the Wraith was able to navigate them with ease. In the realm of the dead, he easily saw the lights of the living. The spiders were everywhere here. They clung to all surfaces, spinning webs, feasting, and slumbering. Before the travelers, the endless webs wrapped together into a tunnel. As they reached it, the talking spider stopped at the foot of this formation. She bowed at the entrance of the abode and called out to the darkness.

"Mother," she said, "They are here."

In that moment, the webs all began to tremble as the trigger threads were set off. Large black legs, as sharp as spears, danced about the nest. Out of the tunnel, eight legs poured out. This spider was colossal, without equal. She appeared to be over twenty feet from rear leg to foreleg. Again, Talion remained unconvinced that this Ungol was a true spider. Her back half was shaped like an arrow head with three long black horns aiming backwards. She had razor sharp ridges all over her body. As for her head, she lacked the furry mouth of a spider. In its place, was a set of razor sharp fangs. As for her eight eyes, they glowed red as Mordor's light touched her. Her body was a pitch black, but the ridges of her crown and back were lightly illuminated a pale green. This abomination was something older… older than Sauron and his new Mordor. The Wraith was unsettled as he looked upon her as she reminded him of a monster from old legend. Even so, he would not be humble… not on this matter.

He said, "You have taken what is mine. Return it at once! Even as I am, I have the power to slaughter your nest."

The mother spider hissed. She parted her mouth, baring her needle-like teeth. Talion reached for his sword, but did not dare pull it out.

"Celebrimbor…" he whispered, "Please refrain yourself."

He felt awkward being the one to say such a thing. If their lives were not in peril, he would have found the role reversal amusing.

The great spider answered, "Welcome Lord Celebrimbor and Talion… the Gravewalker. My children have spoken of your deeds fondly. It is an honor, I will admit."

"Enough," said the Wraith, "What is your meaning?"

She said, "Be patient Elf lord. If I wished, I could curse your ring. A thousand venomous webs wrapped around your power, stifling it. This treasure of yours would weaken and take many years to remove all the webs."

Talion said, "Are you a ringmaker?"

"I can curse," said the spider, "Slow down. Catch and devour. See and predict. I am many things, but a ringmaker is not one of them. Only two are in Mordor and both… both are so predictable. Such a blinding lust for power. Tell me Wraith, will you use this ring to free Middle Earth?"

"I will use it to destroy the Dark Lord and his army. That will be their freedom."

"Is that truly freedom? Or is it merely trading one tyrant for another?"

With that, she was enveloped into a black cloud of smoke. The smoke began to take form, turning into long black stripes of robes that trickled down like a waterfall. The spider had vanished, and its place was a shimmering white being. It was the pale skin of a woman with cold blue eyes. She had a beauty to her that both enamored and caused fright to Talion, as if she were some ill omen meant to lure men to their doom.

"And what have we here?" she asked as she turned to Talion. She ran a hand across his chest as she circled around him. She spoke in a whisper mixed with an emotion he could not read.

She said, "A man… a ranger of Gondor far from home. You are not like the wraith. You are brave. Ah… but such hatred for darkness. Tell me… will you save Middle Earth?"

"I would save it," he said.

"Words enough cannot win this war," she said, "How much are you willing to sacrifice? To suffer?"

He said, "I have given up everything!"

"Not everything" she responded, "It is not just the wraith that anchors you to this world. It is a woman and child. I wonder if you can bear to lose them?"

Talion said, "I do not need to be reminded. This is war."

"Hmmm…" she said as she danced a finger against his throat. The ranger pulled back in disgust.

She said, "Why do you recoil? Are you not betrothed to a monster?"

Talion said, "She is no monster."

"To you, yes, but what of the people you wish to save? Will they be as understanding as you are? She is a creature born of evil, daughter of man or not. Such monsters… like her… like… me… are to be slain by the hero. That is the way, is it not?"

He said, "She is different."

The spider said, "But she was born of darkness, was she not?"

Talion said, "I… Men too can be evil. If so, then perhaps those born of evil can become good. And if that is the truth, then to slay her would make one a monster."

The queen of spiders smiled. Her eyes gleamed at his words.

"Fascinating," she said.

"Enough!" said the Wraith, "Speak your piece."

"Be courteous ringmaker," said the spider, "I have risked much coming here, so far from my lair. I live deep in the mountains in Cirith Ungol, yet I have traveled all this way into the realm of Sauron to meet you. Do you not think that alone merits a moment of patience?"

The spider spoke, "Shelob… that is what the Orc call me. I am Queen of all Ungol. My webs span the great desert, catching lies and plots in their threads. My young rule it unseen, their domain spanning from edge to edge of the map. I deal only in truth and wisdom, whether it be dark prediction or promise for divinity. Today, I come with a warning. The world of men is ending."

Shelob continued, "Even so, you have appeared amidst it, defying this final fate. You have crippled Sauron, but it is not enough. Where you see victory, I see death. Look to the city of Minas Ithil, the lone city against the dark. The Witch King's armies march there, ready to surround it and tear down its walls. Siege and fire. Shadows and betrayal. They will take the Palantir… Yes, one of the last seeing stones. Once Sauron has it, he will have foresight and strategy without compare. He seeks to dominate all life on Middle Earth. If the city is taken, he will have a foothold in the realm of Gondor. Without fail, he will turn to Núrn and rend it to pieces. All you have done will be undone."

The Wraith asked, "How do you know this? Have you a seeing stone for yourself?"

"I know all of Mordor's dealings," she said, "My children bring me word from all corners of this land. And I have many servants."

Talion asked, "How can we trust you to not send us on a fool's errand? If we make the journey, what is to say we will find the city in danger or worse… already destroyed?"

She said, "I gain nothing from this alliance. My warning comes from wisdom. My children have spotted a black army marching from Cirith Ungol to the Black Gate. Yes, on my very doorstep this army was born and festered. The forests have been stripped and great war machines erected. Goblin scouts now penetrate the border. Those I caught in my webs have admitted to the conspiracy."

The Wraith answered, "A Palantir… so far from Minas Tirith… not but a glorified outpost at the edge of enemy territory. It was only a matter of time before the Witch King of Angmar dealt with them. I cannot let this be so. Talion, we must recover the Palantir. With it, we could end this war."

Talion said, "I agree the Palantir must be recovered. But what is this news of Minas Irith? Surely, Minas Tirith will send an army to retake it. The Witch King would be cut off from Mordor, even before breaching the gate."

Shelob responded, "The siege will be swift. His army is grand. My brood counted sixty thousand Orcs, great and small. They bring breeders to turn Minas Ithil into a new goblin city. Gondor has great might, but Minas Tirith's army is not what it once was. They will choose to fortify Osgiliath rather than risk losing a siege against an immortal."

"Then we must go," said Talion, "The city must be saved! With the ring, we can defeat their lieutenants and turn their armies into ours. I will not let Gondor's great city fall nor see its people slaughtered. We must move quickly to…"

Talion turned to Celebrimbor and asked, "What of Ursa and our territories in the south? The journey to Minas Ithil will be another month. By then, Sauron may send more Orcs to invade Núrn."

The Wraith said, "Talion… we cannot delay."

Talion gulped down hard and clenched his fists. In his mind, he saw Ursa holding their daughter, laughing lightheartedly in the sunlit garden. He felt his heart ache as he was overcome with guilt and loneliness.

"I… I am to abandon her?" he asked.

"For a time," said the Wraith, "I will confess that I am not pleased with this arrangement. I wonder if the Palantir is worth losing our foothold in Núrn. We have a thousand Orcs, many great Warchiefs, and an alliance with the tribes. Above all, a powerful ally whose sorcery is truly grand. I would rather we take the ring to Núrn."

"Celebrimbor…" said Talion, truly shocked by this reply.

"However," said the Wraith, "She is strong. I trained her to hold back Sauron's forces. If the Witch King sends his legions upon Minas Ithil, then they will not be threatening her. With her fire, Ursa can win. Now let me ask… are you willing to let the people of the city die? Are you willing to hand the Palantir over to Sauron?"

"I…" began Talion, "I… cannot let them die. I must trust Ursa a little longer."

"Very good," said Shelob. In her hand, she held out the silver ring as it gave off a light blue glow.

The Wraith was fixed upon it and quickly plucked it up.

"You offer it back freely?" he asked as he took hold of it.

She said, "I have endowed it with a curse. I give to you dominion over one of my hordes. You have already met their leader."

Out from the shadows, walked the female spider that had brought them to Shelob.

Shelob said, "She is young but cunning. Able to speak in your tongue… a rare gift. I have many older children of greater span. Alas, they have left Mordor to join our kin in Mirkwood. Even so, she is yours to command, though she will not cast herself to her death. She will lead her spawn, a great swarm of spiders. A single bite of venom can paralyze an Orc. My children, as you know, can be silent as assassins. Use your ring to call upon them and they will answer."

"You have cursed my ring?" asked the Wraith, not hiding his hatred.

"Lift the curse if you wish, though it will not prove easy. Rather, take it as a token of our alliance." said Shelob.

Talion asked, "Why are you helping us?"

She said, "It is not just creatures of light that despise the Dark Lord nor think it best he faded. He suppresses all that is good and... evil. Lightness, and darkness he seeks to balance… or so he says. In the end, isn't he just snuffing them both out?"

She smiled and said, "Go now. I must travel by a different road. Meet me in Cirith Ungol. I will give you safe passage through the mountains. It will be easier than trying to scale the terrible peaks of Mordor's edge."

Talion said, "So we shall. We will ride for Minas Ithil."

"Talion," she said suddenly, swooping in over him so that her face was only inches from his.

"Beware the Witch King. Sauron has endowed him with much of his power. Ring or not, his is the power to destroy you."

Celebrimbor answered, "Indeed. But make no mistake, our power is ever growing. It will soon outmatch the ring of Sauron itself."

"Perhaps," she said, "Such pride in what you have created. How frightening. Your eyes are cruel, just as Sauron's were. I warn you now Elf lord, do not be quick to cast aside everything for the sake of power. You may lose something precious to you… more precious than the ring. Lost forever and ill spent, it will be your undoing."

With that, she was overtaken by black smoke and returned to the form of the spider. Her black legs pulled her up into her web and back through the great tunnel of darkness. Her young followed after her in unison. The air became deafened as they moved all at once. Not even their delicate motions could mask their movement as the sound of a thousand legs filled the chamber. Left in their wake, was the Ungol captain and her brood.

She bowed again, bending her long legs ever so slightly.

She said, "It is an honor… to serve. Call upon us… for matters great and small…. and we will answer… master."

Talion said, "Such strange allies. First that gangly creature Gollum, now Orcs and spiders."

"For now, darkness is our ally," said Celebrimbor, "But in time, the light will suffice. Our power will be enough to push back the darkness and return the world to as it was meant to be."

"A world without darkness?" asked Talion, "That sounds beautiful. Only… where does Ursa fit into that world?"

"As you said, she is an exception. There will be a place for her, I promise," said the Wraith.

The Wraith slid the ring over his finger. In that moment, Talion felt himself overcome by a sense of power. He felt it flow through his heart and into his veins. His muscles tightened as energy rejuvenated them. Celebrimbor smiled as he felt his lost might return to him and bring with it, the power to counter the army headed to Minas Ithil. This was the power he had craved. The power he had lost to the enemy thousands of years ago. In this moment, he was whole. The Bright Lord had risen once more.

In his mind, he said, "Finally... all will fear me and rejoice!"

* * *

In Núrn, another day was well under way. Ursa again watched as Orison and Hallas trained in the courtyard. However, she spent most of it turned away from them as she nursed her daughter. Today, Inga was in a sour mood. She was crying often enough that Ursa wondered if it best they returned inside.

"What's wrong with you, boy?" asked Orison, "You're not at yer best this morning."

"I'm fine," said Hallas, his tone on edge. He glimpsed over at Ursa who was still not paying attention to their match. He groaned and returned to the sword fight.

* * *

Another twenty minutes flew by. Ursa finally managed to quiet Inga down. She felt utterly exhausted at this point. Even with the help of a nurse, Ursa didn't have the confidence in mothering she wished for. She wasn't ever sure if she was treating Inga properly. She wished Lithariel would take a few weeks to visit her and lessen her worry. However, the princess was watching the borders with her fellow scouts, a crucial task in defending the valley.

Ursa turned as she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. The two rangers were standing next to her.

"Oh…" she said, "Have you already finished? Please forgive my rudeness. My eyes were not upon your sparring, and I am sure Inga's cries were bothersome."

"A mother's duty is never finished," said her father, "Don't ever apologize for it."

Hallas said, "I agree. You weren't rude at all. In all honesty, I'm glad you weren't watching. I performed poorly today."

Orison said, "I'll say. Where was yer mind boy?"

"Master," said the young man, "You had something to say to Queen Ursa, did you not?"

"Aye," he replied, "These spars aren't doing much good. If Hallas is to be a ranger, we must return to the forest as often as we can. I will take him on hunts every few weeks. We'll be away for many days when we do. You know I want to be with you and the little one, but we'll get rusty if we remain here."

"I see," Ursa said, "I won't keep you. I only ask that you not wander past the borders. If Mordor sends legions, you must be safe."

"We shall be," said Orison.

"There is another matter," said Hallas.

"I was getting to that!" said the older man, "I don't want Hallas getting idle. Not everyone here is keen to having a man walk around. I've seen the Orcs looking distrustful at us. I propose, no, I ask that you let Hallas serve you. It would be good to have a man as a bodyguard, I think. He'll continue to train here and keep you safe."

Hallas said, "I realize it's selfish but… I wish the same. Er… I'll try my best to not be a hinderance to you m'lady."

Ursa looked inquisitively forward as she swiftly thought it over. She then smiled cheerfully.

She clasped her hands together and said, "What a splendid idea! I will gladly take him as a guard."

Hallas's mouth opened with joy.

He said, "I'm in your debt! I'll do my best. Although I am not worthy, I will guard you with my life!"

She smiled and walked forward. Hallas gasped and quickly fell to his knees. He looked up at her as she beamed down at him. It was the same queenly smile she gave to all of her underlings when they were feeling crushed by her power, a smile of mercy and kindness. It sent his cheeks ablaze yet again as her eyes were downcast upon him. She reached out a pale hand.

"Very well," said Ursa, "My life is in your hands. I will be counting on you, Hallas, son of Faramir."

With a flustered face, he reached forward and kissed the ring beside that of her husbands. The oversized ring of Belos Ironguard, a relic signifying she was a Warchief. His lips pressed against the cold, feeling the soft flesh beside it and the scent of perfume upon her wrist. He pulled away and looked up at her.

"Thank you m'lady!"

Hallas recoiled as did his master as an Orc approached.

Ursa asked the messenger, "What word?"

The Orc bowed briskly and answered, "Our Queen, I bring you news on the construction of the wall."

Ursa said, "I thank you. I will read it shortly. Tell me, are we behind on the effort?"

The goblin shook his head and said, "Only a little. The Warchiefs are saying it will be done soon. Another month is all they ask."

Ursa said, "Wonderful. I will come visit the wall tomorrow in thanks. Ah… as you take your leave, please summon Flog, I must make ready my new bodyguard."

"It will be done," said the Orc in raspy voice.

She then turned to her father and sighed. She felt his hand press down on her shoulder. The gesture surprised her and she smiled up at him.

"You are tired," he said.

"I am. I'm always tired these days."

"Ursa, my daughter," spoke Orison, "You are a fine queen. Do not doubt yourself."

She nodded and said, "I will try."

She looked down at the report now.

She whispered, "Another month gone by…."

Her thoughts then turned to her husband.

She said aloud, "If his quest was successful, Talion should be on his way back. When the iron plating is upon Fort Morn, it will be a sign of his return. Then I shall see him… riding home."

 _I will get to see him soon._

She felt as if a blanket fell over her as she was overcome by warmth and joy. All it took was a single thought to rejuvenate her. She merely needed to imagine his return. Ursa felt overjoyed at the thought of seeing him riding in on the horizon, to feel his heat as he slept beside her, and to see him lift up their daughter in both hands. Although the weight of her duties crushed her, she stood tall and dreamed of those quiet moments between them. She could not imagine that, in that very moment, he was riding further away from her into the heart of war.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I'm sure it is obvious that I changed a huge detail about Shelob by removing her clairvoyance. I did not think this ability was necessary to the plot as she has spiders that already worked as a scouting system.


	5. The Siege and the Witch King of Angmar

**Chapter Five: The Siege of Minas Ithil and the Witch King of Angmar**

"The Drake is smaller relative of the great dragons of old. None have been known to speak as their brethren did. Drakes are prized war mounts only tamed and handled by the Nazgul. They have strong jaws, able to rip an armored knight in twine. Worse is the fire that they spew from their throats. I have heard that the Nazgul at times ride on other beasts. They use cursed stallions for ground pursuits and hunts. For speed, there is another monster of the air that counters the drake. It is called a Fellbeast, although few Orcs have seen it. Though without fire, the Fellbeast can outride the dragons and drop from the heavens to the earth in seconds. Yes, they are far more skilled kings of the air. They are intelligent and need little food or water. While the Drake's origins are known, I do not know where the Dark Lord found these creatures. I only know they share a deadly harmony with their black riders." – _A young_ _Ursa, composing a journal in Udûn_

* * *

Another month passed them by as they rode hard for Cirith Ungol, under the shadows of an endless storm. They hoped that Shelob would be true to her word and give them safe passage. There was no time to reach the Black Gate. It would take months to reach Minas Ithil by that road. The Witch King was forced to take it for the sake of his great army and war machines. Talion would much rather pass beneath the mountains unnoticed. In his heart, he hoped dearly that he would arrive in the realm of Gondor before the forces of darkness breached the outer walls.

Cirith Ungol was an accursed place. While not as disheartening as Ered Glamhoth, it was home to both Orcs and spiders, and that made it a foul place. Celebrimbor sensed death all around. In the stretch of desert and caverns behind them was a massive fortress. It dwarfed Fort Morn by a thousand feet. He wondered what Orc lord made his home here. Perhaps it was the home of the Nazgul for a time? Up against the mountain, were more caverns and endless pits. Spider webs covered these entrances, catching Orcs and beasts at every turn. As they journied deeper into the layer of spiders, Talion and Celebrimbor learned of a great cavern under the mountain large enough to host a small keep. It would have been impossible find the passage of Cirith Ungol if not for their navigator.

"This way," she whispered.

Talion was reminded of the creature Gollum beckoning to him. He had no doubt the fiend was nearby as well.

She said, "My mother's burrow… is not far from here. Do not worry… they will not harm you. I will… send them away."

In time, the spider brought them before the nest. A great collection of caves with formations of stones and waterfalls. It would have been beautiful if not for the stench of corpses and the sight of old, tattered webs hanging down like shredded drapes. This was Shelob's lair, the birth place of the Ungol. Like the pit outside of Mount Doom, Talion and the Wraith discovered a great web funnel. They waited in silence for the queen to appear. However, it was from above them that she came. She crept down silently as if about to pounce on her prey. Her legs reached out towards them, able to penetrate them like the heads of javelins. Instead, her stalks turned into ribbons as a black dress clothed her human form. Talion heard the sound of her transformation and spun around with his sword drawn.

"Welcome ranger," said Shelob, "You arrived with all haste. You will need it. They are upon the walls. The siege of Minas Ithil has begun."

"Tell me everything" said Talion.

"Their siege towers have reached the wall. Yet only an advanced legion has been sent. The main army awaits many leagues from the wall, making camp beside a watering hole. It is likely the Witch King roosts there."

"There may still be time," said the Wraith, "We will go at once. Lead us through this maze you have constructed."

"I have given you passage," she said, "You need only use the servant I have given you."

She then turned to the Gravewalker and said, "The King of Nazgul will be upon wings. A drake of fire. My children speak of a rogue flying to and fro from Cirith Ungol. When you have time, take it for your own or the Nazgul will surely do so. They already have gathered more than drakes. A Fellbeast is being fed and watered in Barad-dûr. I do not know if it is a twisted Wyvern from the time of Morgoth or some other ancient evil. No matter its origins, it can outride both drake and horse alike. It is best you have a steed to match this beast."

"Where is this drake?"

"It has left the valley for a time. It will return."

"Then I cannot linger," said Talion, "I must meet with the heads of the city."

"Very well," said the woman, "I will remain here in Cirith Ungol. If you wish to take the fortress that lies here, I will help you. Although the dark masters have left, many great Orcs rule here, hiding in that castle. I would gladly devour them and grant you their lair"

The Wraith said, "We will return for Cirith Ungol in time."

Shelob smirked and slid up into the darkness from which she came.

"Do you think we can trust her?" asked Talion.

"No," said the Wraith, "She hungers above all else. I am sure that one day she will seek to devour us as well."

"Do you suspect she is lying about the siege?" asked the ranger.

"I do not think the cunning of her trap lies there. When she speaks of Sauron, I sense great contempt. I do not think this is a ploy to lead us into her jaws or away from Núrn. I only fear that one day, her hunger will overtake her senses and she will try to seize the ring. That is why she cannot be trusted."

"No argument from me," said Talion, "Now… where is that Ungol?"

"I'm up here."

Talion looked up to see her crawling in circles along the celling.

"Get down from there. I need you to lead us through the tunnels."

Weaving an iron web, the spider slowly lowered herself onto the ground.

The Ungol said, "This way. Into the tunnel… we must go."

Talion slashed as he cut his way through the many webs of Shelob's lair. With the eyes of the Wraith, the darkness was no hinderance. The only thing working against Talion in this place was time. All around spiders retreated as the hero made his way deeper into the mountain. Soon he had lost all tact and began to sprint. He followed the scent of fresh air up ahead. After what felt like hours, he reached the other side. His body was strung with webs, but the ranger had made it through. It was the first time in many years Shelob and her children did not devour a newcomer.

* * *

The Gravewalker now found himself at the top of a lofty mountain. Behind him, was a grey wall and an old, carved passageway that was his exit. From here, he spied something of a stone road, thin enough for a single traveler to make their way to the bottom. He did not have the luxury of time. It would take another several days to traverse such heights. His flesh and bones lightened. He dashed forward off the mountain and raced down the side. As the mountainside turned into a sheer drop, he leapt into the air. He no longer feared such falls as a human would. As they reached the ground, the Wraith took his form entirely and Talion vanished from the living world as he did when they teleported. A great shockwave hit the ground as they landed in the snow. The white dust was pushed about in every direction, leaving only a thin patch of ice beneath it. It seemed the temperature of Cirith Ungol was even colder on the side of Gondor.

Just as they had reached the bottom, Talion spied with his eagle eyes a pair of enemies. Two Orc guards were watching the passage way. They stumbled backwards as the wave of air hit them. Both let out high-pitch chirps and scrambled to their feet. They wielded two long pikes, ready to skewer the stranger. However, the snow, over a foot deep, hampered their charge.

"Let us test the power of the new ring," said the Wraith.

Talion felt the new power stirring within them. Although they could wield some fire, Talion had never felt an affinity with this one aspect of Sauron's power. While the new Ring mirrored the power of the One Ring and of Sauron, this sister ring was equally unique. If Sauron's ring was the sun, then this new ring was the moon. One of fire and another of ice. Talion felt the very air about him calling to him. He felt the snow spring to life as he moved. Celebrimbor felt it. This time he was not feigning ignorance. With the One Ring, he could find his own magic. Talion reached out and swung his sword forward, delivering a perfectly level thrust towards the Uruk. He felt the air freeze as the snow beneath him moved forward. A blast of cold air, similar to the torrents he used to haunt and stun Orcs, now shot forward. The two Orcs were hit by it and again fell down in fear.

"Hmmm" groaned the Wraith in frustration, "Try again."

Once more, the ranger drew on his affinity with the cold, frost, and ice. He felt the ring amplifying his magic more strongly this time. He felt the cold dread of the Wraith's realm flooding him. He felt it mixing into the frozen land of the living. This time he sought not to simply manipulate the snow, but to imitate it. He dodged to the side as the Orcs began to circle him. Again, they leapt forward. Talion launched another strike at them and this time the air around one of the goblins dropped rapidly. The Uruk was instantly frozen. Talion turned towards the other goblin and blocked an incoming swing. He reeled backwards and swung out again. The second Orc stood petrified as a statue. However, Talion heard the first Orc groaning in pain and horror. The ranger swung his sword at him and broke through the ice and flesh of his opponent.

Talion said, "Impressive."

Celebrimbor said, "This is nothing. Tend to the snow as you did before. Let us send it into our opponent like a storm of blades."

The ring pulsated through them again, feeding its stores of energy feed into their magic. Together, Talion and Celebrimbor began to cause the snow to resonate. The air became colder and the snow quickly compacted. The Gravewalker lifted his hand and pulled the ice up like talons. The curved blades of ice sliced into the Orc. However, they were too shallow. The goblin groaned in pain as its frozen body was pierced. Talion sighed in disappointment and pulled back on his sword. With a skillful aim, he took off the Orc's head in a single swing.

"It will take some getting used to."

The Wraith said, "We are not yet ready for the Nazgul. Even so, I fear Minas Ithil is already in peril. We must make haste. The Palantir cannot fall into the hands of darkness."

"It shan't," said Talion, "Nor will the people of Minas Ithil fall this day."

Once again summoning the craft of the Wraith, Talion's body became like a feather. He dashed forward through the borders of Gondor. At such a speed, they far outmatched even the greatest horse of Rohan. They would cross another fifty miles in but a few hours.

* * *

It was nearly sunset when Talion reached the borders of Minas Ithil. He panted as the run had taking the wind and life out of him. He would need time to recover. For now, he was forced to look upon the army of the Witch King. His many legions were camped against a vast forest and lake. They stood beneath a black cloud sent by the Dark Lord to ease their march into the land of light. Large tents were everywhere and much of the forest was already decimated, likely used to build more war machines and to fuel their fires. To Talion's horror, it was a mighty army indeed. Even from so far away, he could see several massive siege towers and the heads of trolls sticking above them. All around them were the smaller figures of goblins and Uruk-Hai. As the Ungol had mentioned, their numbers appeared to be in the tens of thousands. It was as Shelob had said. An army of sixty thousand. He had not imagined so many Orcs in the world, nor that any army could be as vast. He felt his heart falter into despair. His eyes then turned to the north where he saw the city of Minas Ithil. The city burned. Talion was overcome with a sense of dread, but not only from the approaching army. He saw a shadow flying up ahead. The wings of a dragon stretched out over the forest. It landed at the top of a great stone overlooking the lake. The drake let out a deep roar that resonated across the realm. However, it was not the drake that caused Talion to freeze with fear. A piercing cry was let out from its black rider. The cry was one of death and horror, a symbol of what was to come. Celebrimbor and Talion both felt a fear different than that of mortal men before the Nazgul. To them, it was a twisted reflection of their being. A Wraith masked in total darkness.

* * *

The Witch King gripped on the reigns with his gauntlets of bladed metal. Upon his head was an old silver crown melded to a mask. Behind this mask was no face. To look upon his face was to look upon the black of night. The metallic mask had two empty sockets and a gaping mouth, all peering into the empty hood of his cloak. He wore a long, tattered robe of ebony and silver armor that ran from shoulder to fingertip. Upon his helm was a circle of silver spires. This was the regalia of a king. Tied to his waist was an old Morgul sword which had slain many great foes, whether they be kings and heroes of Elves, Dwarves, and Men.

As the drake and rider roosted, an Orc wearing fine furs and bones ran up to him. The Orc's body was as ice, frozen in fear from the evil before him. However, it was his duty to answer. He fell prostrate before the Black Captain, the first being to hold such a title. The one who stood supreme above all servants in Mordor.

"I am your humble servant, m'lord. What is your command?" asked the Orc.

In Cirith Ungol, he was a great Warchief. In war, he was one of the four war captains under the charge of the Nazgul commanders, head many legions. No, before this ancient being, he was nothing.

In an airless, deep voice, the Witch King spoke, "Send word to the forward ranks. Were not the wall's defenses burned by my hand? The foolish lieutenant sends archers and rams forward to be picked off by arrow and oil. Send forth our siege engines. Retake the wall at once."

"It will be done my king!"

* * *

As the enemy's messengers rode across the plain, Talion raced past them. He could see it now… the city. The city was split into two levels divided by a great wall. Inside, the fortress of the king was marked by a great tower that rose as high as the mountain pass behind it. Closer still, the ranger saw that the outer wall stood against a cliff that dropped hundreds of feet. The only way to pass it was across a great bridge, although still too narrow for many siege towers to cross at once. This defense had allowed them to emerge victorious in Mordor's previous sieges.

Talion could see great torrents of flame atop the wall where the Witch King had down fire. As for the bridge, friendly trebuchets had obliterated the first of the siege towers and catapults. They lay stranded there, blocking other siege engines from entering. Clearing away the carnage were packs of trolls. Talion had slain trolls before, but these Olog-Hai were far larger. Their faces seemed crueler and their hides appeared much thicker. Most alarming was that they walked about in in the sunlight. The trolls he knew turned to stone in the sun. In any case, he had to cross the bridge to get into Minas Ithil. He wondered if he should use his surprise to assassinate the officer in charge. In the end, he decided to meet with Gondor's captains. After all, about a thousand orcs were camped across the bridge, dashing themselves against the wall.

The ranger launched past the invading companies. He heard Orcs let out shrieks of surprise and the trolls, deep bellows. He heard swords draw and arrows fire, but he was gone before they could reach him. The wall was close now. For a moment, he gazed up as fire and oil rained down upon Orc archers. He saw piles of the dead, shot down by Gondor's marksmen. However, all the ballistae and trebuchets above were in ash and pieces. Now Orcs with great box shields tried to protect those with battering rams as they crashed into the iron gate. Talion knew the defenders would hold off this wave. As such, he continued on forward.

The archers on the wall stumbled backwards as they saw the ranger leaping up its side as if he were weightless. He landed beside them but did not draw sword. Immediately, Talion buckled at his legs. The journey had left him drained.

"I am Talion," said he, "A ranger of the Black Gate. In Mordor, I am called the Gravewalker. I must speak to your leaders at once."

 _Archers are no threat. There will time before the bridge is cleared._

"Are you man or phantom?" asked one of the officers of the wall. Talion was somewhat surprised by his appearance. It was a man of dark skin and short curled hair. The ranger wondered if he was from the East, from the mysterious lands there.

"I am a friend of Minas Ithil. I will prove myself by bringing the head of enemy captain here."

Talion quickly dropped back down across the wall. The Orcs were unleashed upon him in an instant. The Gravewalker now brought out his mighty ring. The air cooled as he unleashed its power upon the goblins. As they drew close, they were overcome by a layer of ice that stopped their motions and froze their skin. The ranger quickly dashed away from those that had seen him and back across the bridge into the forest where the siege towers were parked. The goblins were rallied. They hunted him with all manner of ill intent, but he had little trouble navigating the tree line. The ranger quickly hoisted himself up onto the side of a great siege engine and climbed up the boarding on the back of it. He sat atop it, spying down for a glimpse of the officer.

"There," whispered the ranger.

He looked to a large war tent surrounded by smaller tents and an armored guard.

The ranger sighed as he prepared for another dance with death. If he died here, he wasn't sure where he would reappear. He had found an ivory tower in Núrn and one in Udûn. Be that as it may, he wasn't confident that Minas Ithil would offer him the same luxury. Therefore, if Talion faltered in this battle, the city was lost.

The ranger leapt forward and grabbed hold of a nearby pine tree. The sharp points of its branches and its course bark tore into his hands. However, they were gloved and callused. It was a small pain for a vantage point. He again made another jump and landed atop the tent. As he had predicted the tent was sturdy, supported by a wooden frame. However, his drop had alerted the guards. He could not wait. Talion sent a slash across the roof and slipped inside. He pounced upon a goblin, knocking the poor thing unconscious. He swung wide and slashed open the side of a guard. The armored guards at the entrance quickly dashed forward. Talion again used the ring to freeze them into place. Now three frozen guards blocked the others from entering. It would buy him a few seconds. Behind him, the commander drew out a long cleaver meant for chopping off heads and limbs. Talion blocked with the flat of his blade as the machete crashed into it, sending sparks in the ranger's face. Talion held his sword firmly in this position and began to bash the pommel of his sword forward. He then shoved aside the other blade and swung the back of his own sword down like a hammer. It crashed into the Orc captain's helm, denting in it. The Orc crashed to the ground in dizziness as the ranger fell upon him. He took out his smaller dagger and slipped it into the gap between the officer's collar and helmet. And so it was over.

Orcs began to slash at the fabric of the tent, appearing on all sides. The ranger took his dagger and carved off the head. Talion did not have the energy to face any more. As the Orcs rushed in, he kicked one back outside and made off. All around him, the goblins were swarming. Hundreds were ready to take on the ranger. Talion pulled out the Elven bow of the dead and fired it off at the top of a siege tower, towards an archer preparing to fire. The Wraith brought his host hundreds of feet forward, planting him beside his opponent above. Celebrimbor, with the strength of two men, knocked the goblin onto its back with a sudden strike. Talion then swung his dagger down into its brain.

"We have the head," said Celebrimbor, "This will slow the enemy down for the night and win us the trust of Gondor. Well done."

* * *

The dark-skinned captain looked in awe as Talion dropped the head of the goblin in front of him.

He said to Talion, "I must say this does little to ease suspicions. For a man, to so easily enter a war camp, assassinate their leader, and return so easily. You have strange powers, ranger… you wield ice and run like the wind."

"A curse," said Talion between breaths, "For surviving the slaughter at the Black Gate."

"I see… I feared our brothers up North were all slain. How else could such an army enter our lands?"

"I must speak with your leader at once."

"Then allow me to speak ill of authority once again. The lordship of this city will be of no use to you. Go to General Castamir. He oversees the city's defenses."

"I will at once," replied Talion.

"I will send you an escort." said the man, "I am Baranor, captain of Minas Ithil's outer wall. Well, a recent promotion. Until two days ago, I was his his lieutenant. The one who first defended the wall was slain by the Witch King."

"You have done well in his stead," said Talion, "I will return after I speak with this General. Hold out until dawn."

"With the Orc captain slain," said Baranor, "Perhaps we shall!"

* * *

"Where is she?" shouted General Castamir.

Castamir was a tall, aging man with short grey hair and a fearsome face. He wore chain-mail with black robes and light armor fashioned with ebony and gold coloration over it. A far cry from the shimmering silver those in Minas Tirith proudly wore.

The General paced back and forth.

One of his officers said, "Your daughter is in the outer city, ready to evacuate the guards. She is safe with her company."

"No, she is not," said the General.

"Then we must make it so," said a husky voice.

Castamir turned to see a worn-down ranger approaching him. Talion had yet to catch his breath. Both the ring and the journey had taken the life from him.

"A ranger from the Black Gate?" asked the General, "I heard you were all dead."

"We are," said Talion.

"I do not understand your meaning. Whomever you might be, I'm sure Captain Baranor could use your assistance. My soldiers do not have experience with so many Orcs. No, Orcs are the least of our trouble. Wargs, strange trolls, drakes… Mordor has brought many evils here to aid in our passing."

"Minas Ithil will not fall here," said the Ranger, "I have already slain the first captain the Orcs and I will gladly slay the next. However, I must know everything you've learned."

Castamir said, "This is the third day of the siege. Every time, we think we have scattered them, the drake and its rider return to lay waste to our defenses. My scouts have spotted other war engines of an unnatural sort. We call them siege beasts, a great beast of burden strapped with a ballista upon their back. As for the Orcs, we count a thousand upon the wall and another fifty or sixty thousand behind them."

"Such a number…" said Talion, "The Witch King must have been amassing such an army for decades."

"We are far outnumbered," said the General, "Our only hope is to slay that drake of his and to hold the outer wall for another several months."

"And should it fall?" asked the ranger.

"We will retreat to the inner wall. It will be far harder to lay siege. The city does not have space for catapult nor siege tower. Then, I expect our captains will seek to fire arrows and fire down on them. Minas Ithil must outlast this army. We have enough food to survive for months."

Talion said, "I will do what I can. Once I have rested, I will delay them at the front gates and see if I can shoot down this drake."

The escort said, "The ranger is formidable. I saw him leap across the wall and turn an enemy company into ice. He slew the goblin captain and brought us its head."

The ranger said, "As I told your captain, I am cursed. A gift from the black captains that slew my men. But I am a friend to Gondor."

"If you are truly so strong," said Castamir, "Then I would have you join our assassins. We have teams of our best warriors ready to hunt down enemy officers."

"I need no ally in this," said Talion, "I have only one condition for my service."

"And what is that ranger?"

"The Palantir. I know it is here. It is best you give it to me. If the Witch King breaks through the defenses, he will come for it. He will come for it himself, I am sure."

"The Palantir is safe," said the General, his tone hiding anger, "It belongs to the city, not to some ranger from the North."

"You would choose it over your people?" asked Talion.

Castamir sighed and said, "It is hidden way from the enemy's sight. Humph. Very well. If you manage to thwart the first wave, I will give it you for safe keeping."

"I thank you," said Talion, "Now, I take my leave."

* * *

"M-m'lord. Shugnut is dead."

The fearful captain looked up his master who was glaring at a map of Minas Ithil, pieces of war placed strategically upon it. Around him were four figures cloaked in black, just as he was.

The Witch King said, "It matters not. Is the way cleared?"

"Yes. Our trolls have cleared a path."

"You will lead the next strike, Captain," said the Witch King, "Go now and take the wall. Wipe out whom defend it and secure the gate. Destroy the gears and levers once it is open. It shall remain open until the battle is won."

"Yes sir!"

As his underling dashed away, the Witch King looked up towards the fires that burned in the distance.

He uttered, "There will be no dawn for Minas Ithil. Forever, will nightfall be cast upon it."

* * *

Baranor said, "Secure those trebuchets. Quickly!"

"But sir," said his sergeant, "If we erect them, the Black Captain will surely return!"

"If we do not move quickly, those siege towers will be upon us."

From the feint light of their torches, Baranor's scouts had spotted a row of siege engines approaching. The old wreckage had been cast off the bridge by the giants. Now five engines, each with a hundred Orc nesting within, were quickly approaching.

"Something is different," wondered Baranor to himself, "Is the Witch King commanding them directly now?"

He shouted, "Archers retreat! Arrows are no use on those towers. I need knights! Kill all who step foot upon our wall!"

However, a piercing cry stole the heart from all of his underlings.

One shouted "Nazgul!"

His sergeant beside him was immediately plucked into the air and tossed down to his death. He screamed as he fell down the two-hundred-foot drop into the canyon's abyss. The drake circled around again and lit the top of the wall on fire. Its rider let out another deafening cry that awoke all of Minas Ithil. It was a lament for those that still clung to hope. A promise to quickly snuff it out.

Baranor cried in pain as he frantically covered his ears. All around, his men dropped their weapons and tried to block out the sound that bled through them and drained them of life. It seemed to go on for an eternity. Baranor felt a great cold upon him. A dark thought entered his mind. He wished in that moment to flee… or perhaps to cast himself from the wall so he too might sleep. It seemed preferable than fighting the terror of Angmar

"No…" he uttered, "I will not give in so easily."

"Water! Bring water!" shouted Baranor, "Archers! Fire upon the drake! Fire!"

However, they had fled. The siege towers rolled into position, setting up on the left side of the outer wall. As they landed, swarms of Orcs poured out wielding rusty armor and battle axes. Black and crimson blood mixed as it pooled upon the wall. Baranor and what remained of his men fought hard. However, they soon succumbed to exhaustion and their numbers whittled. With great shame, Baranor blew the horn of Gondor. All who heard it, knew it was time to make their retreat. The wall was taken.


	6. The Company's Retreat and the Lost Girl

**Chapter Six: The Company's Retreat and the Lost Girl**

"Mordor's ranks are not as sophisticated as those of Gondor. Most warriors are without rank. If they swear allegiance to a powerful Orc, they can become a bodyguard, strategist, or lieutenant. Above these, are the captains of the tribes and fortresses. They serve the Warchiefs. Of course, the Dark Lord stands above all. Under him is the Witch King. The Dark Lord's servants: The Nazgul and the other Black Captains serve them both.

In war? Goblins sent to war are reappointed to lower ranks. In battle, the Witch King serves as the High Commander of many War Captains. War Captains were powerful Warchiefs and captains before their summons; each then leads many legions. Beneath them are Lieutenants, which control a single legion. At their feet, are the Sergeants who lead a company of Orcs." – _Ursa being interrogated by a guard outside of Minas Tirith (in the time of her exile)_

* * *

"Idril, do not wander so far"

The young girl trotted down the grassy patches beside a cold spring, alit from a ray of sunshine. Her eyes darted by the water, searching carefully for something. Behind her, her mother trailed closely. Several guards wandered a few meters out, making safe the forest.

"But I must look. I must. How else will I find treasure?" she asked.

The mother answered, "What treasures can compare to those in your father's hall?"

"But mother," said the child, "what if there are treasures we've missed? An Elven sword from an old war or a necklace of an Easterling. I must have it."

Her mother laughed and said, "Very well. We'll fill the entirety of the treasury if you like. However young lady, do not go muddying your dress."

"Yes mother," said the girl.

She turned from the stream and looked over to the set of trees before her. Her eyes had spotted something new. She quickly danced over and squatted down to investigate it. Sitting there was a water pouch. She knew instantly that it was not of Gondorian design. The leather didn't seem like horse or cow. It had strange beads tied to it and a crude design. She wondered if it belonged to a wild man from Rohan or the Haradrim. Either way, she needed to take it back to the castle and look through her books for the answer.

"Idril!"

Her mother's voice was full of urgency. The little girl quickly stood up. She would have turned to her mother, but something in front had startled her even more. Idril froze in absolute fear. She had heard of them of all her life, reared to fear them above all else. She had seen their pictures in books, and desired desperately to know of their culture. However, that all vanished in a single moment. Standing in front of her was a goblin. He had dark reddish-brown skin and orange eyes. The goblin was lanky with limbs as thin as a the frame of a skeleton. He glared at the child for a moment with his serpent eyes. Yet he neither stirred nor spoke.

"Idril."

Her mother's voice was low but filled with distress. Her eyes wandered around as she looked for the guards that had been following them. They were nowhere to be seen. The Orcs were not meant to be here. They hadn't been seen in decades around Minas Ithil. Yet she had not a second to spare on this puzzle.

"Idril… run. Run to the guard tower and do not look back. Do not make a sound."

"Mother…" she whimpered, tears filling her eyes.

"Run!"

The little girl let out a muffled shriek as she ran, covering her mouth. Tears streamed down her face as she dashed back the way she had come. Her mother did not turn to look upon her child for the last time. She dared not take her eyes off the glowing embers of her enemy. She did not call upon guards even as the Orc turned his attention to her. She knew that instead of Gondorians, it might be the rest of the Orc's hunting party that fell upon them. Likely, the guards up ahead were already dead. As the goblin drew out his sword, she in turn bared a dagger before him. Knowing her daughter was well behind her, she let out a battle cry at last.

* * *

A red sun rose upon Minas Ithil on the fourth day of the siege.

"Retreat! Retreat!" cried Baranor.

The wall was alit with fire and the siege towers had long since reached it. The defenders had fought valiantly for an hour. Their captain's blade was stained with the black blood of goblins and his armor was charred from the fires of the drake. Somehow, they had held out until morning. Yet, it had been for nothing. Most of his men were slain. Now, the outer ring of the city would be lost and he could only hope to save enough soldiers to fight another day.

He blew upon the horn of Gondor with three quick bursts. To blow upon it steadily would warn the Gondorians he was in need of assistance. Indeed, he was in need of aid, but gathering more soldiers was not the answer. The sound of his horn signaled retreat. His soldiers ended their duels, and searched desperately for their captain. They followed after Baranor down the ladders until they reached their horses.

"The wall is lost!" he shouted, "Make for inner wall!"

* * *

Hearing the horns of Gondor, Talion awoke from his slumber. He knew immediately he had failed. Despite his exhaustion, he should have kept a closer eye on the defenses.

He asked a guard, "What is the meaning of the horn?"

The soldier responded, "They are retreating. The Orcs have taken the gate."

The ranger quickly rushed over to the great wall, only to find Castamir well awake.

Talion said, "I trust you intend to keep the gate open until they are safely inside?"

Castamir said, "That will depend on what company they bring with them."

"I will see it done," said the ranger.

"Ranger…" said the general, his tone faltering.

He said, "There will be a woman amongst the ranks retreating. If you see her, please see to her safety."

Talion said, "Who is she?"

"My daughter"

"I see," said the ranger, "If we cross paths, I will send her here."

Celebrimbor said, "Daughter or not, we cannot put her life above that of the entire garrison."

Talion whispered to him, "I know."

However, Celebrimbor did not find his acknowledgement convincing.

* * *

Great ladders and siege engines were now lined upon along the wall. Hundreds of Orcs poured out onto the top of the wall, and climbed down the other side. Soon, the trolls had taken control of the lever system and lifted the gate. A thousand Orcs quickly spilled into the city. Already, most of the citizens had been evacuated past the inner wall. Yet many were not so fortunate. As an alarm bell echoed across the city, guards began to escort the panicking masses through the second gate.

Amidst the chaos, Baranor and five hundred soldiers were making their escape. Baranor sent his officers ahead to race for the gate. However, he and his closest comrades circled around the soldiers condemned to race on foot. Already, goblins were upon them.. As a large Orc sprinted at those in the back, the Captain fired an arrow into the Orc officer's heart. Meanwhile, his allies cut down the goblin's underlings as they tried to sneak past. To Baranor's relief, the goblins hadn't prepared any Caragor to scale the wall and chase after them. Other than some fast Orc sprinters, it appeared they would make it.

SCRREEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCHHHH!

His soldiers cried out in despair as the drake fell upon them and its cruel master shattered the spirits of the exhausted soldiers. The terrible beast picked up a soldier from his horse and swooped him up into the sky. The man screamed in agony as it took him into its jaws. With ease, it snapped him in two, spilling blood all over the broken soldiers below. Their faces sprayed crimson, they began to panic and flee in all directions. That was when the black clouds fell upon them. Cloaked phantoms appeared around the soldiers and drew out Morgul blades. They let out the same horrific screams as their Black Captain. They saluted with their long-swords and then swooped forward. The Nazgul vanished from sight and reappeared beside the Gondorians. Instantly, those they preyed upon were decapitated. As the Nazgul encircled the soldiers, the Orcs caught up with the survivors. Above, the red sun vanished behind the veil of a black storm. It completely covered the city. A primal fear of what was to come choked it. The people of Minas Ithil, its heroes and citizens, lost hope as darkness enveloped the world.

As all turned to despair, a few still fought onward. Baranor faced a Nazgul with an ornate, silver crowd. With ease, the foe parried his strike. The Wraith screamed again, causing Baranor's guards to drop their swords and freeze. Others cowered and begged. Baranor felt his body giving out, only barely was he able to hold onto his sword. The Nazgul let out a hiss and drew his sword perfectly level, a position for a killing thrust. The phantom vanished and reappeared with his blade in the heart of a soldier. The soldier screamed as his life came to an end.

"Captain Baranor… please…." he blubbered.

"Mercy…" shouted another.

Others began to flee in all directions only to be picked off by Orc archers. Baranor grit his teeth and tried to move again. The Ringwraith danced beside him, beheading those he had called friend. It then turned and gazed at him. The Captain of Gondor gazed at his masked foe. He felt no humanity in his opponent. Now rage overcame him.

"Let it be known," said Baranor, "That we fought until the very end."

With that he raised his sword and lunged forward. The Nazgul swung his blade forward and was knocked back. It let out another hiss before parrying Baranor's blade. It twisted its sword so that the captain's cutting edge slid down and was caught on the cross guard. The Ringwraith then grabbed Baranor with its metal gauntlet. The man was shocked with how strong the phantom was. It was crushing his throat with a single hand, yet it felt as if two mighty hands were upon him.

He pulled back his blade and prepared a swing that would remove Baranor's head. As Baranor looked up he saw the wings of the Witch King's steed preparing another breath of fire. He saw the black storm clouds gatheringabove in place of the blue sky he had known all his life. He heard the cries of his men as their lives came to an end. It was not a fitting death for those who had shown such bravery. His mind turned to the memory of a young girl of golden brown hair. He saw her reach down to pick up the bloody hand of a beaten young man. She smiled warmly at him.

The memory vanished as he heard the phantom utter, "Here you will meet your end, Haradrim."

A white arrow pierced the black cloak of the Nazgul. The arrow vanished and in its place was a sword aiming forward where its head should have been. The Wraith screamed in pain and vanished in a cloud of black smoke. Baranor collapsed to the ground coughing as he tried desperately to breathe. He managed to look upwards and there he found a mighty ranger standing proud. However, he felt a chill as he gazed at him, a fear not as wretched as the Nazgul's presence had inflicted upon him, but fear nonetheless. Even so, he was grateful. He felt something he had not felt in many days. Hope.

"Do not despair!" shouted Talion, "Minas Ithil still stands! Baranor, gather your men and make for the gate."

"Ranger… you mean to face them all?"

"Go now!" said the ranger, "Leave the servants of Sauron to me. I have hunted such deadly game before. I will do so again."

Baranor said, "I thank you."

He quickly grabbed hold of a frantic horse nearby and lifted himself atop of it.

He roared out, "Ride! Ride to the gate of the city. We will not fall this day, brothers!"

Talion moved forward as the soldiers dashed past him. He saw four black riders standing in front of him, one was the Nazgul he had already stabbed.

Talion said, "How do we slay a wraith?"

Celebrimbor answered, "They are immortal, they cannot perish. Their fate is tied to that of the One Ring. However, they have anchored themselves to the world, and so they can feel pain. We need only drive them off."

"Even so," said Talion, "To face so many. One alone would have been enough of a challenge."

"Indeed," answered the Wraith.

However, the Nazgul did not draw swords. Instead, their hooded forms vanished into black smoke and evaporated like steam. Left now was only the one with the silver crown.

With a booming voice, the Nazgul said, "You will be made to submit. To fight, to resist… is folly. It is your fate to serve the Dark Lord. In time, you will know this to be true."

As he uttered these words, the Ringwraith vanished, as if a sudden gust of wind had carried him away. However, Talion's battle was not over. Now an army of goblins were gathered behind him.

Celebrimbor said, "Let us test the new ring. Let us show them the power of the Bright Lord."

Talion's eyes were illuminated blue as the Wraith's power seeped through them. It was not a power he could use carelessly as it would drain him. However, to hold back a thousand Orc he needed to utilize the strategies of the enemy. Just as the Ringwraith had halted the retreating force, so he needed to thwart the invaders. To do so, his weapon was neither sword nor bow. It was fear itself.

"Come," said Talion, "Send your fiercest Orcs before the Gravewalker!"

"Gravewalker?!" said one, "He's just a legend."

Talion ducked as an arrow shot down and bounced off of the stone road. As he recovered, he fired an arrow up to the rooftop in front of him. The goblins all panicked as an invisible shot pierced one of their archers.

"I'll deal with him" said a large Uruk-Hai, one that stood far above the hunched over goblins.

"Then the Witch King will make me captain!"

He charged forward at Talion with a round shield and short sword in hand. Talion feinted a swing at the shield and the Orc excitedly swung his sword forward, moving his shield to the side as he did. Talion twisted his head past the downward swing and lopped off the tall Orc's arm. The goblin shrieked in pain only for Talion to impale him in the stomach. Now a dozen Orcs ran up to avenge their leader. The ranger riddled them with frost and ice. With another blast, he had frozen them entirely. He lept forward and split through one goblin, sending ice shards in all directions. The goblins were becoming uneasy as they realized their opponent wielded powers to rival their own masters'. More Orcs quickly tried to swarm Talion. He blocked a clumsy chop from a cleaver and spun his sword atop the blade so that it cut into the orc's collarbone. Immediately, his feet circled the falling Orc so that a spear, aimed at him, impaled the dying Orc. He grabbed hold of the spear now and tore it from the tiny goblins' grasp. He spun it around and slashed open its neck. At this point, the Orcs agreed that they needed larger numbers to get past the ranger. Talion and Celebrimbor were both aware as well. They needed to drive back the goblins once and for all. For that, a true power demonstration was in order. All this time, they had been feeding off of the Orc's fear, using it to both stall and to build up an image of an immortal killer. Now it was time for them to witness the Bright Lord's full might. He brought up a decapitated head of an Orc and lifted it above his own for all to see. The goblins began to chirp and chatter as they saw this evil.

"I tire of this!" said the Elf and the Man, "Your proudest warriors have fallen, a worthless death like the thousands before them. His pride was useless. His death was meaningless! Only fit as food for Morgul flies. You look to the race of men for mercy and honor! But I have none! I have not come to send you off and make safe the city. I have come to carve your blood into the mountainside and to send your masters into the abyss!"

With that, he transformed before them. The ghost which had hidden from all revealed himself at last. The Orcs were frozen in disbelief as they saw the ranger become enveloped by the phantom of an Elf lord.

"You gaze now upon the Bright Lord! This is my bargain. I offer no mercy, only a promise! Die now at my hand or join your masters in their doom! Run! Run! Run back to Sauron and give him this message!"

"I come for him!"

From the world unseen, he drew out a great glave, and tied to the white spear was a banner. He spun it around his like a whirlwind and then sent it crashing into the stone beneath them, shattering the bricks into pieces. As he did, a great wind knocked back the goblins, sending those closest off their feet. Their fear turned to madness as they realized they were in the company of death itself. The legion quickly dashed for the wall in hopes the Witch King would save them.

* * *

The company of men gazed at the flash of light coming from the center road. They heard the scream of a thousand Orcs stricken in terror. Their eyes were wide with wonder as they gazed upon this marvel, a miracle that appeared in their darkest hour. Around them, civilians screamed and dashed for the path. Goblins were in pursuit.

The lieutenant of the company said, "We must make for the gate. Whatever sorcery that was, it cleared the path! The Orcs have scattered."

"However, those behind us have not!" said another.

A woman with light brown hair ran up to them. She was dressed in the slim, black armor of Minas Ithil's guard. Her face was cold from the horrors before her and her fist was crushing the sword at her side.

"Let us make safe the way," she said, "Quickly! Goblins are upon us!"

One of the Gondorian soldiers behind her charged an approaching Uruk and skewered him with his javelin. The spear ran it through and the Orc was pinned down to the ground. However, the Orcs behind him fired their arrows. The man fell over dead.

"Denethor! No!" she shouted.

"Leave him, Idril," said the lieutenant, "There is no time."

She fought back tears and followed her company. Behind them, a dozen civilians hobbled after them. The lieutenant rode ahead on horseback, clearing the way. The other soldiers surrounded the civilians as Orc parties rushed them from all sides.

Idril said, "We should get closer to the wall. They will surround us!"

"Silence!" said another officer, "You will follow his orders."

They quickly fled now down the road between the rows of houses. As they went, nimble Orcs climbed atop the rooftops. Their black arrows fell upon the company. Idril gasped as she saw the men around her stuck with arrows. Her company continued to flee. Up ahead, they saw a great beast climbing above a rooftop, breaking apart its bricks with its great weight. It stood upon all fours like a crawling human. Its legs were strong like pillars. As for its head, it had a squarish jaw with fleshy fangs. Its eyes were hidden behind a metal helm. Mounted upon its back was a massive ballista that held cannonballs. A shot of it was sure to lodge into Minas Ithil's walls.

"What is that beast?" she asked, her voicing shaking.

She wondered if it were a twisted breed of Grog, for she could think of no other animal to match its appearance. However, Idril ran past it as it let out a groan that resonated through the earth. She was sure the beast was in great pain. As she dashed past, it fired its round into the wall beside them, sending stones tumbling down. With her head looking to the left, she did not see the Warg lunge up ahead. The lieutenant's horse screamed in pain as the Warg thrashed it about and tore into its throat. The goblin rider took a javelin and tossed it into the downed officer. With its rider slain, the wolf began to feast upon the hide of the dead horse.

"No!" she shouted. Her sword was drawn as she saw the wolf turn to face her.

The Orc said, "How unlucky for you. The gate has closed, Tark! They've gone and left you for dead."

Seeing the hungry wolf, the civilians began to turn and run back the way they had come.

Idril turned and shouted, "No! Stay behind me! The Orcs that chase us will kill you if you return that way."

She then said, "I will face the wolf. As I do, run!"

She pulled out her sword, her hand still trembling. Even as she raised it, she could not hide the fear resonating through her body.

The Orc rider chortled and spoke, "Such tender meat! Come to the jaws of my Warg. Let us end this!"

The wolf's mouth opened up and Idril aimed her blade between its jaws. If she were lucky, she could stab the monster in the brain. Her arm would be crushed, and the rider would slay her. However, her only alternative was to run. Even if her body wished to flee, she would rather die here. The wolf now crouched down as its legs prepared to pounce. She wondered if she would be able to stop its charge or if it would devour her instantly. As it sprung forward, the Warg's rider was split open. A rider dressed in worn down garbs now stood atop the wolf. The animal let out a growl and sent saliva frothing about as it tried to shake him off. The ranger grabbed hold of the top of its head and held his palm there. After a moment, the wolf began to stop struggling. Soon, it was completely calm.

"What is this?" she asked, "What ranger can tame a beast so quickly?"

He said, "I am no ranger. Not anymore. Come Idril. The gate will not stay open much longer."

She said, "I will follow. Only… only we must bring the others in my company and the townspeople with us."

Talion said, "I see women and children here. But I see no soldiers. There is only you."

Idril's eyes widened as she looked about. Surely one of her company had made it! There had been so many of them. It was not possible that she was alone. Not again.

She said, "They died with courage… protecting our people. Protecting me."

The ranger said, "You fought bravely. Mourn them later. For now, we must reach the gate. The legion has retreated, but more Orc parties will be upon us soon. Come quickly now!"

Idril let out a deep breath and answered, "Everyone, follow closely! We are nearly there!"

The ranger spun his Warg around with a twist of the reigns. He led the weary group of survivors forward. The beast sniffed the air and let out a deep growl. The wolf dashed forward and pulled out a goblin from the side of a building, where it had been preparing an ambush. The assassin screamed in pain. Its two brothers quickly lunged forward at its rider. Talion created the Elven glave once more. With a perfect swing, he cut open both their chests at once. To Idril, it was a peculiar sight. She merely saw him swinging his arms into the air, a gesture which somehow killed his foes. She marveled at this as she ran forward. Up head, another war party was gathering. Talion lept off his Warg and sent it hurdling at them. With their spears raised, he didn't want to risk being skewered. The goblins cursed as the beast fell upon them. Talion was quickly in tow with a diagonal swing sent at those that had moved away from the wolf. Behind him, Idril watched closely, scanning in all directions. She looked up to the rooftops, but there were no Orc archers out here.

She said to Talion, "We must get to the wall. Our archers will be watching."

He nodded and then ducked beneath a swing. He pulled out his broken blade and stabbed the Orc in the groin. Behind him, his wolf was being slashed open. Even so, it knocked down a shieldguard and crushed his head. Meanwhile, Talion began to wrestle with a large Uruk-Kai. With the ranger distracted, one of the faster Orcs ran past with a pike drawn. He was coming for Idril and the others.

Talion grunted as he said, "He's all yours shieldmaiden!"

Idril stepped back in fear as the goblin ran at her. She wasn't sure if she could avoid the thrust of his weapon. However, she heard the screams of those behind her. Idril's eyes focused on the pike as the Orc sent the sharpened head toward her chest. She moved to her right and grabbed hold of it. The surprised goblin began to pull back on the spear. Idril cried out as she used her free hand to hack down at him. Her blade was now lodged in the side of his neck, lopping off his ear in the process. Meanwhile, Talion kicked at the shin of the Uruk and broke it. As the Orc buckled over, he blocked another strike and sent out a flurry of ice. Idril was as wide eyed as ever as she saw him bash through his frozen opponents. With that, the war party was dead. Only his Warg had been lost in the process.

She said, "What manner of ranger are you?"

"It as I said," he answered, "I am no ranger. All that matters is that I am a friend of Gondor. Even in death, I will always defend her."


	7. The Broken House and the Black Rider

**Chapter Seven. The Broken House and the Black Rider**

"We will test their mettle. Destroy man and Orc alike. Show no mercy in this land of enemies and traitors." - _The Nazgul, on the borders of Núrn._

* * *

Ursa stood upon her steed as another great wind rushed in from over the sea. Her eye was fixed upon the wall of rust and iron. Ered Glamhoth's great fortress was now stripped of its outer defenses and Fort Morn was nearly ready for the oncoming storm. Ursa felt her mind becoming tired. She was tired of war. Tired of strategy and plotting. For a moment, she thought to cast it aside. However, her mind would not allow it. Talion and her daughter could distract her, but she could not stand the silence. The painful memories were washing away, but she doubted their stain would ever leave her.

"Hmmm…"

Her mind turned to Talion for a moment, wondering where he was. He should be returning home with a glorious ring. However, Ursa felt a twinge of doubt. She resented herself for it, believing she should have perfect faith in him. Nonetheless, she could not shake the feeling that Talion would not be returning for a long time, and that was a saddening thought. It was cruel that the world would not let them share a bed for more than a few days and that the majority were to be spent separated. What she would give to feel his touch and to hear his gentle voice next to her! Just a moment to ease the loneliness.

However, Ursa's aching passed, at least somewhat. She remembered that she had a daughter and a father beside her.

"Inga…"

There was a child waiting for her, a child waiting to take her first steps, to learn to speak, and to find her own happiness one day.

With that drive, she left the wall effort and returned to the palace.

"I will not let our nurse," whispered Ursa, "be the one you call mother."

* * *

When Ursa reached her chambers, she saw the child asleep in her wooden crib. The baby took silent breaths. Ursa could not even hear them. Looking at her, she looked mostly human. After all, the child was only a fourth Orc. If so, Ursa wondered if Inga might grow up to be accepted by the race of men. In any case, she would not be welcome with the Orcs, not until a time of peace. Such a time might take many years. For a moment, the Warchief thought of the branding of her race and wondered how true peace could come from such a terrible thing. Here in Núrn, Orcs and Men sometimes worked together under her. However, there had been times of strife and sometimes even violent fights. With war looming overhead, these relations did not worsen for they shared a common enemy. But a time of peace might bring out the worst in both sides. Ursa would need to do something if they were to live in harmony. Many of the Orcs that did not fight only did so because of Talion's domination and commands. Many others were not branded.

 _It's better that no more are branded._

Ursa bit her lip. Her own mind infuriated her. She had originally been devastated by Talion's power. With Sauron's influence, she had come to see it as a perfect, pacifistic solution, but regaining herself, she came to terms with it as a necessary evil. Through the passage of time, she was left uncertain. She hated her own indecisiveness. A Warchief needed to be certain in all of her decisions.

She said, "Ursa, you fool!"

Her distraught voice caused the baby to stir and cry. Ursa immediately felt guilty. She reached down and swooped up Inga.

"There, there," said Ursa, "Mother has you."

Inga continued to cry. Ursa patted her on the back as she saw the nurse run in.

"Shush… shush…"

However, her baby would not stop crying. Ursa didn't mind. Her voice soothed her, it meant she was alive. In that moment, she wanted to care for her forever. She had given birth to this child even as the world deemed it an impossibility. In that moment, Inga was her world.

"My lady"

One of her messengers dashed in the room.

Ursa quickly said, "What's happened?"

He said, "Orcs! On the border! A black rider leads them."

"N-Nazgul…" she said weakly.

The child's nurse reached out. Ursa hesitated. Her hands still clung tightly to the tearful infant.

"My lady!" said the woman fearfully.

Ursa admitted defeat and handed over Inga. She then began to walk out of the room, following the messenger. She heard the maiden consoling the child. The child began to moan and stopped crying. Ursa turned to see Inga softly return to sleep. Her eye sunk down upon the sight as her chest began to ache from the realization. Even so, she turned away from Inga and answered the call of war.

* * *

Ursa stood in Fort Morn's strategy room, surrounded by her strategists and two of her warchiefs. The rest of the chieftains and officers gathered in the barracks or remained in their fortresses.

One of the warchiefs said, "The wall isn't ready for siege. We need to take the battle to that sorry lot."

Ursa said, "Call in the farmers to retreat inside Fort Morn or the nearby keeps. As for your soldiers, bring me all of them. I want a legion ready to meet themin battle. Oh… and bring your Caragor riders. We will not let them cross the border."

"Yes!" said the Warchief, "It will be done my liege!"

Another one of her Orc officers said, "We've made ready your armor."

Ursa nodded and returned to looking down at the map before her. The invaders had been seen marching in from the main road of Udûn. The scouts had reported an entire legion. It was not a large enough army to defeat her own, but it might break her defenses. Worse, there was a wraith leading them. She wasn't sure her magic would be as effective on something that could not die.

 _I must flush them out with fire._

"My Queen," said the same messenger boy from earlier, "You have many visitors."

He moved aside and in walked her father and his pupil.

"We heard about the Orcs," said Orison, "I must return to the people of the tribes. Many of us are skilled in traversing the forest. I'm more use there than here."

Ursa said, "I was afraid you might say that, Father. I do not want to lose you. We have only just met."

"I know," said her father, "but I'm still a ranger of Gondor. No changing that."

"I see," said Ursa, "Then I will only ask you not venture too far into the heart of the enemy. Should you see a rider cloaked in black, you must flee."

"Aye," said the old man, "that much I can do. What about you boy?"

Hallas said, "I pledged myself to protect the Queen. That is what I will do."

She asked, "Have you fought in battle before?"

Orison said, "He has. He slew an Orc about a year ago."

"Even so," Ursa said, "I cannot let you ride into the frontlines. However, you may stay with my royal guard. Will that suffice?"

His eyes lit up with joy at her words.

"I will not let you down."

She said, "Do not worry for me. Your life is worth protecting."

He rubbed his head as he became flustered from her kind words and affectionate gaze. However, he gripped at his fists as he found his resolve and recalled that a terrible battle was nearly at hand.

Ursa then turned to the messenger who was growing impatient.

She tilted her head in confusion and asked, "Are there more coming?"

He answered, "Yes. Lady Lithariel and a host of riders approach."

Ursa said, "Queen Marwen answers quickly. If she will have it, we will join forces. Wait… I think I would like to add another to the guard sent to escort me."

* * *

Ursa stood in her dressing room with her maidens about her. Her gaze was pensive as she investigated the outfit prepared for the chieftain. She had seen it before, one of many new outfits sown for her. Some were robes meant for ruling, some for leisure, and some, such as this one, were crafted for war.

She pouted and said, "It is a bit frightening, yes? I will look the part of a fiend if I am caught wearing it."

She then slipped into the outfit with the help of her maids. The outfit was a dark, brown robe that reached to her feet. Strapped to her chest was black armor with bladed shoulder guards and plated gauntlets. Ursa now put on the headpiece, the clothing that she most objected to. It was a mask that covered the entirety of the face, save for two slits for the eyes. The top of the helmet turned into three curved horns with scales running between each one. Her long black hair flowed freely beside it. Ursa felt like some lord imitating a dragon. She spun around and looked at her strategist, who stood with her servants.

"How is it?"

The small female Orc answered her, "Send them fleeing, that will. You look less like a Warchief, and more like a Black Captain."

"I see," said Ursa, "That is unfortunate. I wish for my Orcs to rally behind me."

"If the Black Rider is as dangerous as you say it is, you must also look frightening. A black rider against a black rider. Should scare them good."

"True," said Ursa before giving off a nervous laugh that echoed in her helmet.

To her relief, the armor was quite light. It would protect her from arrows, but the blow from a war-hammer would quickly kill her. However, her body was too weak for heavier protection and she needed to move quickly in the battlefield. Ursa gazed down at her hand. A small flame sprouted above her palm, fluttering and flickering like the light of a candle. Her maidens all gasped in fear as they saw her power for the first time. Ursa's fearful nature subsided as she readied for war. As she sunk into the blood and smoke. The flame she looked upon was lost in the inferno of her eye. In her mind, she saw only the death of her enemy.

* * *

The tribesmen and Orcs both fell silent as they saw their Warchief upon her black steed, riding out of Fort Morn. With her face hidden behind a war mask, she was truly neither Orc nor of man. Ursa was silent as she headed a row of horses and Caragor. Any emotion was hidden from her underlings. Her hair, so long and silky, fluttered like a cape behind her. The Warchief road to the war party quickly approaching her from the east. She saw the golden tassels of the princess leading a charge of a hundred riders. Both sides rode briskly, deafening the clearing with the thunder of hooves. Within a minute, Ursa was face to face with Marwen's daughter. Lithariel greeted her with a warm smile, something Ursa wasn't expecting.

The princess said, "Queen Ursa, we rode as quickly as possible. My mother sends her finest warriors to aid you. The rest of the tribesmen make safe our haven. As little as it may be, I too will ride by your side. Consider it a gesture of good will, a symbol of the alliance between Orc and man, and our thanks for defeating the Tower."

Ursa said, "Your horses will be needed to break the ranks. As for you Lady Lithariel, I hoped you might ride with me. You fought well against Talion and none of my warriors can match you."

The other woman replied, "Well, I don't know about that. I would have died if not for you breaking the Tower's spell."

Ursa shook her head and said, "Your men said that you survived his arrows. I need a swordsman with quick reflexes."

"And why is that?"

The Queen answered, "The Nazgul. All Orc know of them, and some have seen them in battle. They are said to move as lightening, beheading their enemies in that same moment. Does such a power seem familiar to you?"

"Indeed."

Ursa said, "My fire can burn all that I gaze upon. However, I doubt my armor will protect me against their fury. That is why I ask that you guard me."

Lithariel said, "I am honored. I will send one of my best men to lead the cavalry in my place."

"I thank you for accepting my request. Forgive me for separating you from your comrades."

"A queen should not ask for forgiveness," said Lithariel, "especially in war. I will not let my people fall this day. I will not let our lands, our farms, our people be stolen from us. We will break them swiftly."

"Indeed," said Ursa, "They will not survive the borders of this land."

Lithariel gulped as she heard Ursa's steely voice through the war mask, gazing ahead into the horizon.

She said, "Once this over, I would like to see Inga. I am sorry that I was unable to before now."

"Of course," said Ursa in a friendlier tone, "I have been hoping for you to visit."

The change in Ursa's demeanor left Lithariel somewhat unnerved, as much as she was glad to hear kindness in her voice.

The shieldmaiden answered, "Then I shall."

"Wonderful. Ah! And you must visit again when Talion returns, as must Queen Marwen herself."

"Talion," thought Lithariel, "I would like to see him again."

Both women looked head, dreaming of a period of peace only possible through total victory.

Ursa rose her hand and shouted, "Forward!"

* * *

The Warchief Zaxuleg led the defense force. The largest and strongest of the Warchiefs, Ursa chose him not only for his battle prowess but because his army was stationed at Fort Morn. As such, they were fastest for her to rally personally. Closer to the battlefield was Roocha, the captain that replaced Nug, the original Warchief who had fallen against the Tower's lieutenants at Ered Glamhoth. With both chieftains' armies, Ursa had over two thousand Orc's at her dispense. The horseback army rode briskly ahead of the main forces, intending to wipe out many with a preemptive cavalry strike. The ride to the borders took many hours. As they drew closer, Ursa saw smoke on the horizon. Farmers and Orcs alike were dashing frantically toward her army, away from the raiders. Soon, Ursa and Lithariel caught the first glimpse of the outskirt homes. They were burning. There were a hundred Orcs swarming up ahead, each armed with a torch and a blade.

Zaxuleg asked his lady, "What are you orders my Chief?"

The iron-clad witch answered, "Send out your riders and crush them."

* * *

What remained of the Orcs retreated back to the main force. Ursa's army marched onward, stepping over the trail of bodies that had been slain by her cavalry. With her first strike succeeding, Ursa decided to slow down so her main army could catch up, an order that cost several more hours. This mean the Nazgul and his own legion would be ready for her. After several hours, she resumed the march. Up ahead, the Witch Queen could see the enemy dug into trenches or setting up campsites. Most were lined up ahead in messy rows with great pikes and hooked spears drawn. However, the legion was not what concerned Ursa. The enemy awaited her on a grassy plain, but upon one of the cliffs behind it she saw the officer's tents. Archers were lined up here, as were the Orc captains. In the center of the officers' camp, stood a single horse, robed in a black gown. Atop it was a rider cloaked in shadows. It let out a scream that shook through her forces.

"Nazgul!" shouted a small Orc.

Lithariel's men also began to stir. Ursa turned to see the war maiden herself looking unhinged.

Ursa said to her Lithariel, "We have faced the Tower. We will destroy this devilry no differently. Nay, we will send it back into the fiery abyss from which it came."

The Witch Queen rode ahead of her horsemen. She turned to see the fear in their faces, the fear that her enemy was feeding readily upon.

She shouted out, "I send none of you to treat with them. We have not come to bargain, but to destroy. Let it be known that Sauron has no right to these lands! As this is true, let us send these foes back to Mordor… to the fire and the ash. We will not part with cool breeze of the coast nor the bounty of water. We will not part with one blade of grass nor a single one of my people."

Zaxuleg roared out, "Send these dogs back to their master! Crush them! Crush them all!"

Lithariel said to her men, "For Queen Marwen! For the free Men of Middle Earth!"

The Orcs and men alike cried out as their blood boiled and their fists clenched. The Nazgul, without a winged mount, could not terrorize so many. Uppon his hill, he gazed down at the masses before him and wondered.

He whispered in a gentle voice, almost feminine in nature, "Their leaders stand together. I will slay them. Then… their army will break."

* * *

The battle erupted as Ursa made the first move. With her main force now present, she sent out her weakest Orcs, which made up most of her army, towards the spear-men of the enemy. These goblins had only a sword and light armor at best. To aid them against the enemy archers, she sent a division of shield-bearers to escort them before retreating. She knew her horses would be slain if they attempted a straight-forward charge. Instead, as the goblins crossed blades, she routed her horsemen towards the left of the enemy ranks and began to shave them off. Her recruits outnumbered the enemy and after twenty minutes, managed to break through the frontlines. Already, she had lost two hundred Orcs and the enemy about a hundred. However, the advantage was hers as she possessed reserves and had only to unleash her sorcery for the battle's tide to turn. The enemy commander would know this and strike. She had foreseen it.

"Lithariel," said the Warchief, "He is coming."

She saw the black rider's horse stand up on its back legs and cry out. His horse leapt off of the hill and charged through his own ranks with a hundred Warg riders in tow.

Ursa said, "It is a ruse. He plans to assassinate me here. Be ready."

All around her, her guards pulled out swords and prepared for what was to come. All feared and trembled at what was coming. Archers with crossbows knelt down and prepared their arrows.

Ursa looked forward at the incoming riders. She stretched out her hand and fired a blast of fire. She saw the horsemen steer hard to the left so that her fire hit the Warg behind him. She clenched her teeth and prepared a larger blast. This time she created a wall of fire in front of him. She saw the rider leap over it, but Ursa's hand now rose into the air. Her flames grew in size as the horse tried to clear it. Ursa witnessed the Black Captain and his steed ignite at once as her fire reached him. However, he was faster than she was. In that moment, the Ringwaith was upon her. She could do nothing as he teleported next to her and swung down with his cursed sword. Lithariel's eyes could not see him, but her time in war steered her sword the right way. Her blade clashed hard into his. The Wraith parried around her and she rolled to the side, always guarding Ursa. The other guards flew forward and slashed at the Black Captain. He easily deflected a swing while grabbing another Orc guard by the throat. Flog charged forward with his spear. The Wraith took the goblin he was choking and shoved him into the front of the pike. He then slashed at Flog, cutting open his armor. The bodyguard fell backwards as the Ringwraith pulled up his blade. He held it perfectly straight to his side. Lithariel and the other guards circled around him and moved at once. He parried their strikes again and this time slashed open one of the warriors. Ursa tried to move to the side, but had difficulty seeing past her defenders. If she was not careful, she would ignite them instead. She had instructed her guards to defend her, but when the Nazgul was distracted, to offer a small opening. However, the Wraith offered no quarter. Already three Orcs were dead. Now Lithariel was on the defensive. Ursa had warned her that the Nazgul were said to possess a cursed blade. A single cut would poison her. She let out a battle cry with and with all her might, slammed her sword against the Wraith. She saw that her sword was close to shattering against his cursed steel. The shield maiden crossed her sword's guard against his before steering her weapon forward. The Wraith had not expected the sudden fury. She slid the sword down into his chest. The Nazgul screamed out in pain as she impaled him. However, he held the blade in place with his claws. With his other hand, he pulled up his morgul blade and prepared to behead her.

She said, "Ursa! Now!"

Ursa sent a great fire up on his cloak. Lithariel pulled her sword out and dashed backwards as Ursa increased the heat of the flames. The Wraith screamed in pain. The sound alone dulled Ursa's senses and sent Lithariel fumbling over in pain. Through the madness, her Warchief prevailed. Zaxuleg came up behind him and knocked the Black Captain over with his great hammer. Meanwhile, Ursa intensified the flames. The Nazgul's cloak was now burned and Ursa saw a glimpse of a shrunken figure behind it as he accidentally revealed his true form. The sight stole the heart from her. She saw something she could not kill.

 _No, no more doubts. That was my promise. That was my promise to Talion and to our child. For their sake, I cannot look back._

Ursa's flames became hotter as her mind slipped into that of the Witch Queen. Her flames turned into a swarming torrent. All of her guards fled as the heat stung at them. The fires of Mordor roared as they spun around the screaming Nazgul. She saw him begin to flee. He vanished forward and reappeared a few feet away. It seemed the Fires of Mordor caused him great pain, making it difficult to use his magic to escape. Ursa's fire burnt him again. As he screamed, the Ringwraith vanished once more and returned to the back of his army.

Lithariel asked, "Is he dead?"

Ursa said, "He will return."

She recalled Celebrimbor's words about the nature of wraiths. They could, with great magic or weaponry, be cut, crushed, or burned. However, they would flee to the netherworld and return whole in time.

The Warchief then said, "Sound the horn. Our Orcs must now retreat."

She rode hard as the Mordor horn called back her men. Both Ursa and her horseback riders broke out of her armored ranks and charged at the enemy. This tactic was dangerous. Warg riders were firing at her and the enemy army would soon do so too. Even so, she was determined to break them here and now. She heard the snarl of a Warg lunging upon one of her horsemen. The steed screamed as the wolf's jaws wrapped around it. Another quickly dashed at the Queen. Ursa reached her hand out, but Lithariel's bow was already drawn. She fired a shot into the monster's head and it spilled over, crushing its rider.

"I thank you," said Ursa as she whipped on the reigns.

Her black stallion shot forward toward to the left wing of the enemy ranks. She heard arrows whistle as they came her way, but they were slightly out of range.

 _I must get closer. I cannot aim perfectly if I cannot see them._

Ursa's thoughts were aimed at the officers at the warcamp. As for the eight hundred or so enemy goblins, they were an easy target as they did not move. Soon they would know what had become of the Nazgul and seek a full-scale retreat. This she could not allow. As such, she charged at them swiftly. With her hand stretched out, she summoned an all-consuming fire that burnt through the legion. It burst out from the ground in the core of the ranks and fed hungrily at the left flanks. She heard their horrific chirps and screams as they were burned alive. The air stunk with their burning corpses. Others fled from the ever-spreading sea of flames. But there was no escape. As they began to retreat, Ursa sent a wall of fire up behind them, one nearly a league wide. Ursa now felt winded from the gesture, as if the magic were draining her.

"So this is my limit?" she wondered to herself.

The Warchief then left the battlefield. The enemy goblins were now approaching on horseback. While her fire could burn arrows, she had no guarantee her reflexes would be enough. Rather than be slain or battle without magic, the Warchief retreated. Still, she kept her wall of flames alive. In her place, she sent out battalions of fully-armored Orcs to duel what remained. Soon the enemy was cut down to only a hundred. Without hope to victory, they retreated back towards the Udûn road. They had steered to the right where Ursa's flames had failed to reach. As they fled, they were ambushed by Lithariel's cavalry. The horseless Orcs were no match for her skillful riders. And so the battle ended.

Ursa gazed upon her masterwork in both horror and relief. Amidst her feelings, her gaze remained steady. She knew she must never look away from those she killed.

Her Warchief said, "You've done it. We lost so few."

His Queen remained still as she continued to gaze upon the charred battlefield, rank with corpses of her kin.

She said, "Yes, we were victorious. Even so, we must now prepare for a greater battle. Sauron was merely testing us and hoping to slay the traitorous officers with his servant. He will return with a far greater force. To win, we will need the wall completed. We will need Talion."

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : The feminine-speaking Nazgul was the first Black Rider that spoke "Shire. Baggins" in The Fellowship of the Ring. He is unnamed in this story, one of the less formidable of the Nine.

Fun Fact: In the rough draft, I kept mistyping Celebrimbor's name as "Celebrim **bro** ". Surely, he is the broest of bros.


	8. The Silence of Waiting and the Spiders

**Chapter Eight. The Silence of Waiting and the Spiders' Arrival**

"From the Black Gate, rangers have journeyed to our city to trade trinkets and relics with my people. Along the treacherous path of Mordor's mountains, we have found similar treasures. The possessions of Orcs. Orcs are said to think only of killing others. After my mother's death, I had no difficulty believing this. However, I have found carvings on wood, iron crafted into necklaces, beads, ornate furs, and hordes of treasure.

A favorite of mine was found on a fallen Goblin assassin. A purple orb polished from a stone. I've never seen such a stone as this before. Among the Orc, there are those that love to horde treasure, never to spend it. Goblins are not paid for their work as we are. They are paid rations by Mordor, steal from others, or trade with their allies. Why then, do they care for it? Is it pure greed? I do not think so. They say this Orc clutched the orb to its dying breath. Was this possession important to him? Perhaps for this Orc, its beauty alone was worth dying for." – _an entry in Idril's journal_

* * *

The Witch Queen rode back towards the war camp with fifty prisoners in tow. Of the thousand that had invaded Núrn, only these survived.

"What will be done with them, my Queen?" asked Zaxuleg.

She answered, "They will be imprisoned in one of Morn's dungeons. No harm will come to them. Should they wish for freedom, I will offer to add them to our ranks."

"And if they do not?"

"Then that prison will be their home. It is a cruel fate, but I cannot set them free. Not yet."

 _Not as war engulfs us. I cannot yet see the past the flames._

Ursa thought back to her desire to see Sauron overthrown and her people set free. With the corpses of her brothers littered behind her, thinking of peace seemed disrespectful. Yet such a wish still lingered.

 _Talion and I… we will make that dream come true._

* * *

Up ahead, Ursa saw her war camp was fully erected. Another three hundred Uruk were stationed here. She also saw the other five of her bodyguards. She pulled off her horned helmet and spun her head so her hair flowed free. She took a deep breath and breathed in the fresh air of Núrn. At last, she was away from the smoke and the stench of the dead. It pained her to think that a portion of Núrn was now scarred by war, by her own magic. It's seas, its pastures, and its air all nurtured her; they revived her very soul. What cruel fate was it that ill would come to such a paradise?

"My lady," said a familiar voice.

She smiled down at the young soldier bowing at the foot of her horse.

He said, "It saddens me to know that I was of no use in this battle."

She said, "You should not be eager for war."

"Of course. I am merely eager to be of use to you. As one of your defenders, I feel guilty sitting idly by. Many of my kin died today."

She said, "You are always of use. We are still not safely home. I hope you will escort me back to Morn."

He beamed up at her and said, "Of course my lady!"

Ursa said, "Let us ride briskly. Tomorrow, we prepare for the next stage of war."

It was a lie. The truth was she wanted to return to Inga.

"Who is this young man?" asked Lithariel, "standing amidst your Uruk-hai?"

Ursa turned to Hallas to let him speak.

He looked up at Lithariel and bowed.

He said, "I am Hallas, son of Faramir. I did not know Princess Lithariel would be present. Forgive me rudeness."

Ursa said, "He is the apprentice of Orison, my father."

Lithariel's eyes widened and she repeated, "Your father? You found your father? Are you certain?"

"I am."

"Then I am happy for you. It must be fate to meet him in a land such as this. I must ride back to the Queen's realm. I will return in a few days. Let us speak more then my Queen…. If it is alright with you."

Ursa said, "Of course. In truth, I think of you as a friend."

"I am proud to call you friend," said Lithariel, "You proved your worth when you aided Talion in my mother's rescue."

Ursa said, "Thank you for defending me today. It would not have been a victory without your sword nor your riders."

Lithariel said, "It is all I can do. My people are too few to fend off the Dark Lord's armies. Humph. I never thought an Orc army would be the one to defend us, to be where we draw hope. It seems there is much I need to understand if I am to be queen."

Ursa said, "I am sure you will learn it. I too have much to learn if I am to be fit to lead my army."

Hallas said, "You mustn't say such things. You are already a fine Queen."

Lithariel said, "This one seems quite devoted to you."

She then turned to Hallas and said, "I have never seen such red hair."

Hallas parted his long red locks to the side and looked away slightly.'

"And such freckles," said Lithariel.

Hallas seemed somewhat flustered. He said nothing.

She said, "I heard such red hair is common in Rohan and in Gondor."

He said in a low voice, "My father hails from Gondor. I heard that my grandmother was a maiden of Aldburg, a city of the Rohirrim."

Lithariel said, "I see. And now you are in the service of a Warchief. You remind me of the ranger Talion. I see the same eyes of Gondor, a selfless blade that I am envious of. Take care of Talion and Ursa, young knight."

With that, she bowed to them both briefly and returned to her steed. She rode off and joined her riders. Hallas watched as Lithariel led the herd of horses towards the east, where the forests of Queen Marwen lay. As for Ursa, her gaze was to the west towards Morn, where her heart dwelled.

* * *

Inside Minas Ithil's gate, Baranor's company gathered. They all gaped at the ranger and shield maiden, both coated so thoroughly in blood. They and the villagers rescued by their hands were the last to return. Any others had surely been slain.

Idril turned to her rescuer and said, "Who are you, ranger?"

"A ranger from the North, a survivor of the Black Gate, and one who has been fighting against Mordor for many years. Your father sent me to see you home."

She replied, "Father sent you? Ah, of course he did."

Baranor now ran up to her and embraced her. Her arms wrapped around his back.

He said, "I thought you were dead."

"I almost was. I felt death's embrace. If not for this ranger, we all would have perished."

Her friend spoke, "On this, I can agree. He slew the captain of the first legion."

"My coming did not stop the breaching of the wall," said Talion, "I will do all I can to ensure they make it no farther."

Idril said, "I saw you… I saw you tame a Warg by merely pressing your hand upon it. What power is this?"

Talion said, "The power of a dead man twisted by the forces of evil."

She said, "I do not understand. However, we should go see my father. He will know what to do."

"After you," said Talion.

Idril nodded and led the two men down the city's main road. However, she stopped a few feet later and looked up at Talion.

"No matter what you may be," she said, "You saved my life. Thank you. And thank you for doing what I could not and saving the townspeople."

"You displayed bravery." said Talion.

"I could do nothing," she said, "but run as my city burned."

With that, Idril's eyes sunk and she turned away. Her face was pale from exhaustion and from fear. The ranger said nothing, knowing her affairs were her own. He wondered what had transpired in Minas Ithil before his arrival. A shield maiden, an ebony-skinned man, and a general who sent his daughter to war. He had stumbled into someone else's story. He could not understand just yet, but he would fight to save it. He would not let them burn like his brothers at the Black Gate.

"For but a moment, have you ever wished that Minas Tirith should burn?"

Talion froze in his steps. Those words had paralyzed him. Words spoken by the Bright Lord.

The Wraith said, "They banished you for protecting the woman you loved. If not for Ioreth's father, you would have been executed. You were looked down upon by pompous nobles and hated for marrying outside of your class. Have you ever wondered if Gondor has become corrupt? Is it worth saving?"

Talion slipped to the back of the party and whispered, "There are those I cannot forgive. Even so, there are innocent lives at stake. Do they deserve to die?"

Celebrimbor answered, "Of course not. Do not mistake my question for my own intentions. We Elves have always seen man as prone to corruption and to war. However, I have no ill-will towards your race. It is the race of Men that have defended these borders, not the Elves. My people now stand idly by as your blood is shed."

"Then why ask such a dark question?" wondered Talion.

Celebrimbor said, "I wished to know how you felt. Always you speak of saving Gondor, but Gondor has never saved you. Even now, you give everything to protect them. They will use you and they will not give you the Palantir."

The ranger looked to his navels as he thought upon it.

* * *

In time, they reached one of the watch towers atop the wall where the General stood. His finest guards and strategists were gathered around him. When Castamir witnessed the light brown hair of his daughter, he immediately dropped the map pieces in his hands and ran to her. His arms wrapped around her back, unable to hide his desperation.

"I never thought I would see you again."

Idril said, "I am safe thanks to him."

"Ranger," said Castamir, "I am in your debt. Ask me for a legion and it will be yours. Ask of my treasure, and I will give you."

Talion said, "The Palantir was our promise. Where is it?"

Castamir's joyful expression relinquished and his eyes sharpened.

He said, "That is not something I can give away with war upon us."

Talion said, "I will follow our bargain. I will do what I can to slow down the Orcs. There are many more captains and officers to slay."

Baranor said, "You intend to face the army yet again? Dusk comes quickly. You should rest and wait until morning."

"I have rested enough." said Talion, "Food and water will suffice."

Baranor reached his arm around Talion and said, "I will take you to the General's portion. You have earned that much."

As the two men left the wall, Castamir began to return to his war meeting. Idril, meanwhile, became tense.

At last, she broke the silence.

"With your permission, I would join another war party."

He answered, "Where is your lieutenant?"

"Dead," she answered, "They are all dead."

"Then you are fortunate to be alive. You will remain close now. No more playing soldier."

"But I am a soldier! That was something you decided for me."

Castamir turned away from his maps once again. He gazed at her in silence for a time.

At last, her father said, "Idril, is this truly what you want? Do you wish to die a soldier's death? For all that I see upon your face is fear and sorrow. Why do you insist on this? Why do you insist on destroying me like this?"

She said, "I will not run away like some coward while those I love die all around me! As long as I have strength, I will wield this sword and I will fight!"

"And to what end?" asked the General, "Until you are dragged before the Orcs? Hacked to pieces and your head made a trophy? Is this what you seek?"

She replied, "Father, you have always been a soldier of Gondor. You would rather face the enemy alone then surrender the city to them. Can you not understand?"

He replied, "I understand that you are lost."

The old man sighed. He tired of these arguments that seemed all the more common as of late.

Castamir said, "Idril… if you must fight, then join the guards at the treasury. See to its defense."

"You'd take me so far from you?"

"Is not what you love protected within those vaults?"

"All I have is being taken from me. They have battered our ancient walls, they burned the library, and beheaded the statues of our forefathers."

She turned to the fires ahead, at the gathering of Orcs below.

With tears in her eyes, she asked, "Is it not enough they destroy us? Must they destroy our history as well? Our legacy? So that nothing remains, not even a memory?"

The General said, "That is why you must go. Make safe what you love the most, Idril. Your heart is not here. It is in scrolls and relics. Once, you were a gentle child who thought nothing of bloodshed. This is not you, Idril. Why do you follow the path of a killer?"

She said, "War has made that easy. There is no other path left to me."

Idril sighed and said, "Do you bind me to this duty or will you consider letting me join the forward guard?"

Castamir answered, "Idril…. If to protect you, I will do what I must. I hereby order you as Commander of Minas Ithil: Go at once and do not leave your position until I return."

"Very well, General Castamir," she spoke in a stern voice.

Their eyes did not meet once as they parted ways.

* * *

Talion bit into a small loaf of bread as he stood outside of the dinner tent. He looked up at the sky of Gondor. The black clouds of Mordor lingered overhead, revealing not a single star to him. A red glow from the enemy's fires only increased the feeling that they were to burn within a furnace. More and more coals were being heaped upon it by the moment.

"Do you have a family, ranger?" asked Baranor as he put down his chalice.

Talion gulped down his bread and turned to the Captain.

"I do. I have a wife and a daughter… a daughter born only half a year ago."

"Are they far from the battlefield?" asked the other man.

"From this one yes. From the war? I'm not so certain."

As Baranor fell silent, Talion spoke, "My wife's name is Ursa. My daughter is Inga. Their home is in Núrn."

"That," said Baranor with distress in voice, "is in Mordor."

"Indeed. However, they are safe by the sea. The Queen Marwen protects that realm, as does our army."

"What army?"

"One day, you will see. Well, what of you? Have you any family in Minas Ithil?"

"No wife or child, if that is what you mean. Only my parents and my comrades. Yes, those most precious to me."

Baranor stared onward as Idril appeared through the crowd of soldiers gathered there. She walked up to them, her eyes red from where tears were shed.

Baranor said, "He's sent you to defend one of his estates, hasn't he?"

"His treasury. Meanwhile, you two will fight in the heart of war."

The Captain said, "Idril… the garrison knows that you are a skilled fighter. Do not blame yourself for what happened to your party."

"Thank you, Baranor," she said, "You are too kind as always."

"You two should rest," said Talion, "I will go and hunt tonight. Their numbers will move slowly without heir captains."

"And the Nazgul?" asked Idril.

The ranger replied, "The Nazgul I can face. As for the Witch King, I will be ready for him. Once his mount flies too close to the city, I will pick it off with my arrows. Perhaps then, deprived of his wings, he will be manageable."

Idril said, "You risk much for us. I know you are strong, but we cannot ask you to lay down your life for our cause. This is not your war, yet you face their legions alone."

Talion said, "Do not concern yourself with the matter of my life. I chose willingly to come to your aid. My reward will be the Palantir. As for yourself, I only ask you defend the wall to the last man. They far outnumber us, but Minas Ithil is strong. We can outlast them."

"You speak of hope." said Idril, "Is there really such a thing?"

Talion answered her, "There is always hope."

With that, he waltzed down the city steps and vanished into the night.

Idril whispered, "So far from home. Why does he go so far for us?"

"In all honesty," answered her friend, "I'm still not quite sure who he is."

* * *

The Orc reveled in the pitch black of night. Their skin was cool, and their eyes saw much. However, there was a hunter on the prowl. One far more cunning whose eyes saw all. With the city streets so narrow, the siege engines could go no farther. It was left to the siege beasts to batter the walls. Standing atop the inner wall, the last stronghold of Minas Ithil, was the ranger from Mordor. Hidden by the night, he fired luminous arrows down at the Orcs. As they began to gather and fire back, Talion dropped down into the crowd. He fell upon one Orc, shattering its skull. He rolled off and tore his blade from the scabbard. As they descended upon him, he danced about. He deflected their swings with ease and began to cut them down. As dozens more swarmed him, he quickly dashed forward and climbed up an abandoned townhouse. Here, there was a siege beast surrounded by a dozen archers and four engineers that loaded iron balls into the ballista.

The great behemoth bellowed as it sensed danger nearby. The Orcs shrieked in far as they tried to retreat. Talion, upon seeing it, realized this mysterious beast was merely a Graug. Its face had been blinded and its body seemed lankier, as if it was malnourished. Before he could comprehend it all, the Orcs made their attack. However, the ranger was faster. He dashed forward and slit open the throat of one archer before it could fire at him. Another ran too far back, descending into danger. As the siege beast scrambled backwards, the archer was crushed into paste under its knuckles. Talion quickly dashed around the Graug's range and towards the engineers. One swung an axe at him. Talion stepped to the side, avoiding the blow. In turn, her grabbed the axe's shaft and twisted the sharp end down into the engineer's own stomach. He then caught the swing of another Orc's club with his cross guard. The Gravewalker delivered a swift kick which sent the Orc screaming out in fear as he plunged to his death. The ranger's blue eyes now turned upon the massive beast. Within seconds, he figured out what was to be done with it. He ran behind the siege beast and climbed up on the ballista. Talion then reached forward so that he was nearly atop its head. Celebrimbor took form and seized its mind for his own. The beast let out another groan that echoed through the air, awakening all in the city. It heaved and creaked as it pulled its legs out of the pile of rooftop bricks. The tortured Graug slowly turned towards another roof where a second siege beast was standing. The ranger found a cannonball already loaded. He hung on its back and pulled back on the loading mechanism. With another command from the Wraith, the beast lowered itself until the ballista was aimed perfectly at the other roof.

"Fire!" shouted Talion.

The iron shot exploded into the other siege beast, obliterating the weapon on its back. As the broken weapon lodged in its back, it let out a high-pitch scream. Blood was gushing out of its hide as it began to keel over. Its long arms tore at the roof, breaking it apart. In another moment, it slipped off the rooftop and crushed a company of Orcs as it landed.

"One down," said the ranger. Despite his sense of victory, it was mixed with a sense of relief knowing the beast-of-burden would suffer no more. He then dashed up the great wooden crossbow and plunged his sword into the brain of the titan. His sword was laced with ice that poured out into the wound. The siege beast's face was frozen solid as it began to die.

"It's not enough," said Talion, "It will take days to even begin to slow them down."

Celebrimbor said, "Let us turn to the captains. We will make them our own and have them sabotage the invasion."

"That might just work," said Talion, "However, I just remembered. We need not do this alone. We have friends from Cirith Ungol."

He called upon the ring and sent out the signal. Moments later, a large spider scaled the side of the wall and arrived on the rooftop.

"Master, we answer… your summons. There is much prey… here in Minas Ithil."

"Manfolk," said Talion, "Are not for eating. You may feast upon the Orcs as you like."

"We are too eat… all of them?" she asked, not hiding her confusion.

"No," said Talion, "I need you to help clear the war-camp. I have a second task for you as well. Send your smaller spiders to find where all the captains and officers reside. Can you do that?"

"Of course, Master."

As she departed, Talion dropped down off of the roof, landing perfectly on his feet. He then slipped past the approaching Orc companies. Along the way, he slit the throats of those that noticed him. At such a speed, it took only a few minutes to find where the Orcs were camped out. He saw the houses were populated now by Orcs and the streets were littered with fires for roasting their meats. Already, barrels of grog were brought in. The Orcs were merrymaking, drunk at their supposed victory. It would not be hard to find a captain amidst this celebration.

As Talion waited on a rooftop overlooking the party, his ears faintly picked up the gentle legs of a spider creeping up on him.

"What news?" he asked without sparing her a glance.

She answered after a bow, "Master… we have found… no captains nearby. They hide out… in the fields with… their master. We have found… a lieutenant… in the main house… to the north. Two sergeants… stand by… the four grog barrels below."

"Ah," said Celebrimbor, "A lieutenant will do nicely. Let us take his mind and kill the others."

"Ungol," said Talion, "Send your little ones to flood the area. Send all of them. Kill all the Orcs, but not the officers."

"Yes master" she said.

She bowed and crawled down the roof once again. He saw her playing at a piece of white thread. Talion now realized a host of webs were tied around the houses. He wondered when the Ungol had managed to build so many tripwires. The pack leader jabbed at the web again and again, delivering a unique rhythm that only her kind could hope to understand. A moment later, Talion heard the sound of a thousand legs all making their way forward. No, they were swarming in all directions. At least, a hundred spiders the size of a dinner plate were surrounding the Orcs.

"What the…" shouted a Uruk-Hai.

"Aaagh!" another screamed as the Ungol enveloped and bit him.

Hearing the spiders descend upon the goblins, Talion charged towards the house where the Lieutenant rested. The Ungol were not harmed by him as they easily dodged his footsteps. Talion paid no heed to the Orcs swiping and clawing at the small arachnids. The largest Uruk were being bitten by dozens of the spiders. With so many stings, the venom flooded through them and took only minutes to stop their hearts. The rest of the goblins began to flee. Dark green spiders were sinking their fangs into sergeants, jabbing their back stingers into their veins. Seeing the officers so easily overcome, their underlings chose to flee.

As for the ranger, he kicked open the door and dashed inside. The lieutenant was a tall, lanky Orc with ears over a foot long. His crossbow was already aimed at the ranger. He fired six arrows, each one dripping with oil and fire. Talion ducked low as the arrows pierced the wall behind him. As he stood up, he swiftly drew out his own bow and in the same moment, fired off a shot of his own. The goblin's bow was shattered as the invisible arrow ran through it. Talion now appeared in front of him. He sent a swift punch into the Orc's stomach so that it reeled over. He then grabbed him by the left wrist so the Orc could not face him. With his left hand, Talion dominated his mind. Suddenly, one of the lieutenant's bodyguards bolted through the door and charged Talion with a lance. The ranger managed to somehow grab hold of the shaft so that the blade only poked at his armor. The Orc thrust forward with all his might, hoping to bash Talion into the wall. In that moment, four black legs wrapped around him. A set of fangs bit into his head and sent him to the ground. Talion now took notice of the pairs of red eyes gazing at him. The Ungol leader was already beginning to feed upon him.

She took a moment to say, "We have captured… the officers. They are stung… unable to move… for some hours."

Talion said, "Well done."

She said with a chirp, "A-Ah…. Thank you master."

Talion would not admit it, but he was beginning to warm up to this particular Ungol. In a way, he found something adorable about her. Nevertheless, a simple compliment was as far as he would go to reveal such feelings.


	9. The Princess and the Necromancer

**Chapter Nine: The Princess's Tutelage and the Necromancers**

Ursa looked to the long road leading to the Black Gate. Every day, she would turn to it. Hoping. Waiting. Her husband's return was long overdue, and he left her to merely wonder at his fate.

The Warchief continued to sit down on the soft grass at the roadside. The half-Orc's gaze fell to the child in her lap. Inga was playing with one of Ursa's claws, sucking on it. Her mother smiled for a second as her child gurgled with saliva, letting out a sort of laugh.

"You silly little thing," she whispered, "Play as you like. Never your mind. Do not concern yourself with the worries of this world. Sleep, rest, play… do as you like. Your mother is watching and your father…. Your father will surely return."

* * *

As the afternoon set upon her, Lithariel arrived just as she had promised. Queen Marwen was also with her. Ursa quickly scurried to the throne room upon hearing the news, trying to cradle a crying Inga all the while.

"Welcome Queen Marwen and Princess Lithariel of Núrn. Welcome to Fort Morn."

Marwen said, "I must say… I love what you have done with it. When last I was here, it reeked profusely and was utterly unsightly. Now I must confess I am envious of your fortress."

Ursa said, "I am glad it pleases you. Even so, I am jealous of the artifacts and books you have collected. Compared to your palace, Fort Morn is yet without legacy."

Marwen said, "Your legacy has only just begun."

Ursa said, "Your words bring me joy, Queen Marwen. Yet we have I cannot put aside my distress. Thaurband and the island of Carnán remain unconquered. Without Lord Celebrimbor, we cannot brand anymore Uruk."

"I take it Talion is late?" asked Marwen.

"He is."

Marwen said, "Allow me to speak as one who is queen and one who was married. As one queen to another, I hope you will always remember that the title you bear. A wife and a mother yes, but your queenship is what defines you. Even alone, you have the power to win this war."

"Then as a queen," said Ursa brightly, "I thank you for your encouragement."

Marwen then said, "Furthermore, as one who was a wife, I advise you to wait patiently for your handsome ranger. Then when he returns, scold him fiercely for leaving you unattended past the promise day."

Lithariel said, "Ursa does not seem the scolding type."

"But you must," said Marwen cheekily, "You are his wife, aren't you?"

"I am sure Talion would not leave me waiting unless the situation commanded it."

"True. Yet a wife should let her husband know she wants him by her side."

"Then I shall scold him as kindly as I can," said Ursa, "So that he knows I love him and that he must not go away so long. Never again. From now on, I wish to fight by his side. He promised long ago to make me his army and to lead us in battle. I will remind him of that promise and remain with him always."

Ursa clutched at her chest and blushed as she said it, not hiding that she was swooning over her husband yet again.

Lithariel thought to herself, "Is this romantic to Orc-folk? I suppose it is sweet in a twisted way."

The Warchief then said, "Thank you your Highness. It seems I was feeling disheartened without him."

"Then let us tour your estate. I'm sure the garden view will do nicely," said the ebony-haired Queen.

* * *

The three women walked towards the courtyard. Up ahead, Ursa could see Orison and Hallas training. It seems they were too engrossed in the training to hear news of the visitors.

Lithariel asked, "So this is the man?"

Ursa said, "He is indeed."

Marwen said, "So he too was a ranger. It is said we marry those like our father."

Ursa said nothing, even though she was disagreeing in her mind. She knew nothing of her father when she fell for Talion, other than his occupation. However, it was certainly a strange coincidence.

Ursa put her hands to her hips and shouted, "Father, you should be resting."

"Ah," he said as he dueled Hallas, "I was no use in the battle. Only put a few arrows into their patrols."

The Warchief said, "Father, there is someone I would like you to meet. Your Queen Marwen and her daughter Lithariel."

Orison let out a yelp and then fell backwards. Hallas began to wipe away at the sweat on his face, trying to look presentable before royalty. He felt embarrassed to be seen during a training session. He wondered what ill-luck brought them here at a time when he wasn't on guard duty. At least then, he would be dawning proper armor.

Orison bowed and said, "It is an honor. In all my time in Núrn, I have never met its queen. Not properly"

Marwen said, "No need for formalities. We are all here as guests. Now, I think I shall go to the garden."

Orison wiped at his forehead and said, "I did not think my Queen would venture here. I apologize if the Orcs have acted fiendish. I will send them away from the garden."

Ursa felt her stomach knot at his words. He had spoken similar remarks since he began his stay in Fort Morn.

"Ursa," asked her father, "Are you alright?"

"I am."

"Good, come walk by your father."

She smiled and took him by the arm as they began to leave the training grounds.

Hallas ran up to his master and said in his ear, "I will remain here. I haven't finished practice just yet."

Ursa overheard it and said, "Are you certain? You are welcome to join us."

He squirmed uncomfortably, heavily tempted by her invite.

However, he answered, "I am. This is something I must do."

Lithariel stopped following the party as she saw Hallas return to the training dummies in front of him. He began to strike at them. His posture was perfect, and his eyes were focused. The shieldmaiden walked up behind him and watched him closely as he practiced. It seemed he hadn't noticed her.

She said, "To not join two queens when invited… is your training truly so pressing?"

"L-lady Lithariel! Forgive my rudeness. I…"

"Shush," she said, "Why are you here?"

The redhead sighed and put down his sword. He turned again to her and said, "For me, there is no time to rest. War is about to be upon us, yet I am not ready. Orison… Queen Ursa… they have been good to me. I a grown man and yet I am still not the ranger I should be."

Lithariel asked, "Who are you comparing yourself to? Ursa's father?"

Hallas wiped at his head and said, "Ursa speaks fondly of her husband. I heard her heap praises when speaking of him. She said he charged bravely into an arena and rescued her. I thought… if I could become strong like him then maybe I could save those I love. As it is, I am sure I will die in this war, without once protecting her nor fulfilling my duties to the people of this land. That is why I must master the sword. I do not wish to be left behind again while you and she stand in the frontlines."

Lithariel said, "Ursa speaks fondly as she loves Talion and admires his rescue of her. It is not the killing of Orcs she relishes in. To her, it would be better if Talion could not fight. Ursa does not wish for you to fight either Hallas, son of Faramir. Her desire is for her loved ones to live on. At least, that is how it seems to me."

Hallas said, "That is true. She told me to pursue my own path, that my happiness was what she sought."

Lithariel said, "In any case, it is unfair to compare yourself to Talion of all people. I trained most of my life yet even without his wraith, I doubt I could match him. Certainly, I understand your feelings. I too wish to become stronger. It is a good thing that you train so astutely, but must you burden yourself all the while? The day will come when you prove yourself a great ranger. So, stand tall and proud as you walk your path. Do not think so little of yourself."

He rubbed his head and said, "Such kind words. Are all queens and princesses truly so goodhearted even to the likes of me?"

She said "You remind me of myself when I was young. I thought I had to prove myself. How else would I be seen as the equal to a man? No matter how hard I trained, it was never enough. Not to me."

"You dueled the Nazgul and have slain many Orc," said Hallas, "You are a shieldmaiden of Núrn."

She said, "That may be true, but I do not know how to acknowledge it. Like you, my mind thinks only on how to master my craft. It took years to stop doubting myself at every turn. That is why I wish you to be kind to yourself. So that you… hmm…"

Lithariel then said, "Ah, I'm not as good with words as my mother is. Why don't you and I spar? If you think me so adept, perhaps I can teach you something?"

"Truly? To duel with the shieldmaiden of Núrn, I am not w-"

"Hallas," said Lithariel abruptly, "pick up your sword and fight."

With that, they dueled for about twenty minutes. Hallas was dumbfounded by her speed and agility. She easily evaded his slow swings and knocked him off his feet. Not once did he come close to defeating her.

Hallas now panted as he lay sitting on the ground.

Lithariel said, "Your footwork is sublime. However, your eyes are upon my sword too often. Think not just of blocking my blows and watching my movements. Strike at me as often as you can muster. If my sword is low, aim high. Seek out my every weakness."

He answered, "It is no good. I cannot hope to strike true when my eyes and body cannot keep up."

Lithariel said, "Time will change that. Now I should be off. I will come again to spar when next I visit your Queen."

Hallas bowed and said, "Thank you, Princess. For the lesson and the words of encouragement."

* * *

As another night fell, Talion came to rest behind the wall. He had slain six siege beasts, at least a hundred grunts, and many officers. It was enough to slow down the Orc's war effort for a day or so. Even more, the lieutenants he dominated began to betray their brethren. These feuds kept the legion preoccupied. In retaliation, the Witch King had the traitors executed. As for the siege beasts, he sent no more. They were too rare and valuable to waste so readily.

With his energy spent, the ranger returned to Castamir's camp. He wasted no time to answer his growling stomach and parched throat. He would enjoy their fresh pantry, especially knowing the Orcs' own merrymaking had been ruined due to the Ungol's invasion. The ranger now took an apple and bit into it. It was fresh. He would savor it knowing the siege would slowly rot away much of Minas Ithil's freshn crops. With no access to farmlands, this was inevitable.

Talion now saw Baranor laughing with his men at some old Gondorian joke involving a spindly goblin trying to stand up straight to pretend to be human. The captain saw Talion and slipped away from the group.

"You return," said Baranor, "Any luck?"

"Indeed," said Talion, "However, forty thousand Orc are still camped outside these walls. I will need some ale."

"You will have it," said Baranor, "Get this ranger a pint!"

* * *

As the night slept away, Baranor and Talion began to talk.

"Tell me about your wife. Is she beautiful?"

Talion said, "What good husband would say otherwise?"

"Is she not?"

"Certainly she is," said Talion, "Lovely and beautiful."

"Let me guess… a fiery lass from Rohan?"

Talion said, "Ursa is…"

He hesitated to say it. He doubted a Gondorian would approve or find her beautiful. However, Talion decided to not remain silent.

"Ursa is a half-Orc."

"A…. that is… you are a man of unusual tastes."

Talion said, "I do not ask for approval. She is lovely and noble."

The other man crossed his arms and said, "I meant no disrespect."

"You think our union is evil? You would not be the first. However, I am already a host to an Elven wraith. I am a strange man. Perhaps that is why her Orcish blood no longer bothers me. To me, Ursa is a woman. She is a woman regardless of her bloodline."

Baranor said, "Well, if you would have said she was a pure-blood Orc, I would have vomited."

Talion thought of defending himself and admitting he couldn't imagine marrying a hunched over female Orc. However, his thoughts of Ursa transcended such opinions. He didn't view her as he did goblins, half-blood or not.

The other man said, "I will say no more. To many, I am already an evil. You say nothing, but you must wonder where I hail from."

Talion said, "I will admit I have not seen a man with such ebony skin before. It did not escape my attention that you might be an Easterling."

"I was raised in Herad. I cannot say much of my homeland as I was but a child when I was brought here. To me, Gondor is the only home I've ever known. To many others, I am seen as a corruption of man, born in an evil land. My parents took me in, regardless of that heritage. Idril and her father were kind to me. To most others, I am and will always be a Heradrim."

The ranger said, "In the end, you are a captain of Gondor. Only a fool would concern themselves with your homeland when we stand amidst the shadow of Mordor."

Baranor said, "I wish others felt the same way."

* * *

The ranger slept alone under a small, abandoned tent left by an unfortunate vegetable seller forced to move to the city's refugee district. Talion's thick, steel armor and chain mail lay at his side. He remained huddled under a blanket, hoping to gather a few hours of sleep. The Wraith would wake him in time. His mind was on edge as always. Every time a boulder crashed into the wall or an Orc let out a shriek, Talion awoke startled and itching for battle. For all the peril about him, the Nazgul were not harassing Minas Ithil. He would wonder at their absence in the morning. For now, he would sleep and dream of Ursa. He would dream of the child growing up without him.

The ranger awoke with a tear in his eye as dawn was upon him. He could not remember the dream, only the feeling of someone beside him. He took a deep breath as fresh air from the valley poured into his nostrils. Mordor for all its darkness and evil, was not so rank on this side of the mountains. In any case, the eighth day of the siege had arrived.

The Wraith said, "I was about to wake you. With daylight upon us, let us search for the Palantir."

Talion said, "The General will not be pleased."

"What he can do to stop us? Let us search the old treasure stores he keeps."

Talion said, "I will speak to Idril. I think his daughter might be more forthcoming."

As he walked to the treasury, Talion passed the masses of the city's people. They had been taken from their families and left with nowhere to go. He saw mourning wives, parent-less children, and the elderly left with none to care for them. Already, the city was beginning to stink as the streets were littered by the homeless. The ranger let the sight soak into him lest he forget what he fought for. Yet he did not gaze too long. Otherwise, he might join them in despair.

Up ahead, he saw the barracks by the city treasury. The treasury was a grand building of brown tile and golden ceiling dressings. Its roof was built like a great dome. Far behind it, he saw the city's magnificent arena barely peaking above the mansions beside it. However, none dwarfed the star diviner's tower that reached the lower peaks of Mordor. Such a place was home to the astrologers, the nobles, and the general himself. However, Idril would not be sleeping there.

By the barracks, he found her in a tent with four royal guard protecting her. While not as skilled as those that guarded the White Tree of Gondor, Castamir's guards were still among the greatest swordsmen in Gondor. Even Talion would struggle against all four at once.

The Gravewalker said, "I'd like to speak with her. I'll only be a moment."

"You are the ranger our general spoke highly of. Very well."

Inside Talion saw Idril sleeping. She wasn't wearing her armor, but she remained in the black garb worn underneath it. He saw her thrashing about in her sleep, letting out grunts of terror. The ranger gently brushed her cheek. As he did, she awoke. She looked up at him for a moment with an expression he hadn't expected.

She asked, "Seymir?"

She heard one of the guards say, "Idril, you know the lieutenant is dead."

"Ah… Of course."

Talion said, "I am sorry to wake you, although no one should dwell in nightmares. I hoped you might let me see the treasury."

Idril yawned and said, "You've done so much for Minas Ithil. I would be honored to be of help to you."

* * *

The door to the great chamber was opened. Inside, Talion could see a wall made entirely of ancient wooden shelves. On each was a set of scrolls, freshly dusted of webs and particles. In the center of the room, was a great map of all of Middle Earth and around it were smaller artifacts. In the back of the room, he saw statues of great Gondorian figures, and besides these, stacks of oil paintings. And to the right, there were even more shelves. On these, were smaller collections of stones, trinkets, relics, and weapons.

Idril said, "One of Minas Ithil's greatest treasuries. Not just of gold, but of history itself. For hundreds of years, we have made safe such memories… such beauty."

She walked ahead of Talion, as if not paying him any heed. Idril gazed down at a small table positioned in front of the world map. She picked up a silver dagger with a leaf-life sheath.

She said, "A dagger from Rivendell. Brought here by the Elves during the city's creation as tribute. See how it shimmers as if crafted only yesterday. I believe it is enchanted by the ores, jewels, and smithing of the Elves. Do you think so?"

Celebrimbor told Talion, "It is indeed blessed by the land of its making, but there are no charms here."

Talion said to her, "Yes, I think you are right."

She smiled at his answer. Hurriedly, Idril brought up a dried noodle-like appendage covered in bumps.

Talion asked, "Is that some sort of snake?"

She answered, "It is no serpent. This is the tentacle of a sea creature. I think in Núrn, it is called a Watcher. It floated down river. Now it is dried up and quite fragile."

"The Watcher I have not seen, but it is said to be the size of a ship."

She replied, "Whatever the beast may be, perhaps this is its young."

As she spoke, Talion saw the worry and burden vanish from her eyes. Idril's eyes were full of life and happiness. Her mind was completely taken by the knowledge and objects around here. The Gravewalker understood why Castamir had posted her here.

He said, "You know much."

"I have spent my life looking at these and trying to fill up the treasury. I've collected treasures from all over Middle Earth. All for the sake of knowing the history of Gondor, of the Elves, of Mordor."

Talion asked, "I mean no insult, but think your gifts would see better days as a scholar or a treasure hunter."

Idril's smile slowly vanished until her eyes became contemplative.

Then she said, "It is not as if I never wished to be… it's only that our time of peace was stolen from us. My mother was slain by goblins seeking to assassinate the royal family. She died protecting me. After that, revenge replaced curiosity. When Orcs would trespass into our lands, I would go looking for them… hoping to find the one that killed her. I'll never forget those cold, orange eyes."

She said, "Only, I never saw the Orc again. Even so, I sneaked out of the city night after night. To keep me safe, my father made me a soldier… or rather pretended I was one. At least, that way I would have training and discipline. I was something of a brat in my youth, and I am something of one now."

She smiled, but it rang hollow to Talion.

The ranger wondered what lie she told herself that led her forward. Her father had trained her so she could be a soldier, but Idril seemed to derive a purpose from it. It did not seem duty nor courage that she followed. He had seen such qualities countless times in rangers and in soldiers. Rather, Idril seemed to walk forward in despair. From what and to what end, remained to be seen. Talion would not ask that of her. He had embarrassed her enough.

"Well," said Talion, "For the collector of artifacts, I found something that might be of interest."

He reached into the pack tied behind him and grabbed out an object wrapped in an Orc flag.

He said, "Baranor thought you might have interest in it."

Idril's eyes ran over the cloth as he unwrapped its contents. He revealed an ivory claw, the size of a short sword. It was covered in small traces of blood and dirt. Without a doubt, it was a fresh find.

She said, "A talon from the siege best!"

The woman ran forward and plucked it from his hands without hesitation. She picked it up into the air and examined every inch of it. Her fingers swiftly spun it around and handled it as if were but a feather.

At last, she said, "The blood is fresh. You carved this but not a moment ago. I thank you, Talion, for your gift. I will treasure it. Well… as long as this city stands. I am not sure how much longer until this place is plundered."

Talion said, "The siege beast as you call is a young Graug."

"A Graug? It was a Graug I looked upon that day? I thought it compared well, but its features were too lanky."

"Indeed," said Talion, "It seems they were not feeding it well. The Graug they have tamed are all starved as this one, likely broken since birth. This one is small. The Graug in Núrn are thrice the height of a troll, with claws like spears."

"You have seen one?" she asked, her voicing booming through the room.

"One wandered close to my home. They are not slow as these ones, burdened by the gear on their back. Rather, they can overtake any man, and throw boulders with great precision."

"I would like to see that."

"So you say, but a fully-grown Graug is terrifying. Yet I must admit, I prefer the pride of such monsters to the pitiful cries of these war beasts."

"To break and enslave… that is the way of Mordor."

She continued, "Many of the treasures here are from that land. It is a shame they do not care much for them. I wonder what history of the Orc lies carved in rock?"

Talion said, "I thought the Orc might the one race you have disdain for. You wish to know their ways?"

She said, "I do. There are many that I hate, but some must think as we do. Why else would they create art?"

Talion said, "For war, I imagine. Idols of war and rituals of blood."

She shook her head and ran to the shelves beside her. She quickly bent down and looked deep into a set of shelves. At last, she pulled out something. Idril ran up to him like a child showing off their painting to a parent. The artifact she presented was a piece of marble caved away. On it, Talion saw a thin goblin crudely carved on the surface.

Idril said, "A memory found in a war tent. I believe this carving is of a female goblin, perhaps its mate?"

Talion said, "Goblins do not love or know sentiment. They leave their mate and march proudly to war. That is their way."

"Then why would he take this so far from Mordor? Perhaps she meant everything to him. Perhaps, he could not bear to be away from his people. Even so, he could not defy his orders, and so, he marched steadfastly to his death."

Talion's eyes became narrow and his voice became rougher as he said, "They had a choice and they chose evil. You best not become too sympathetic to their ways. The Orc will not be so thoughtful."

Idril said, "I am well aware of the danger. Even so, I cannot help but wonder."

As she spoke, Talion was reminded of another woman who loved knowledge and saw the Orc differently than he did. One whose eyes were afraid, yet she carried on all the same.

He sighed and said, "Forgive me. I have become distracted. I meant to ask you a private question. Your father will not approve, but I must. Is the seeing stone here in the treasury?"

She shook her head and said, "If it were, I would give it to you. There is no point in Father keeping it. The enemy is already here. There is nothing to predict nor seek. All that remains is for the enemy to break through the gates. I do hope you find it and take it from this place."

"As do I," said the ranger, "And I hope that you will not give up on this city just yet. Minas Ithil is strong, as are you."

Her cheeks glowed as she managed a small smile. It took both of them by surprise.

* * *

As dusk fell upon the city once again, volleys of arrows rained down upon the defenders without fail. Many poor soldiers were slain, but most were safe beneath their shields. Amidst the arrows, fire, and stones, the ranger was hunting yet again. The Witch King had sent out small catapults and large cross-bows to be built upon the flat roofs and in the streets. These weapons, Talion began to dismantle. Meanwhile, his spiders continued to drive away the goblins from their camps. As for the new Orc officers, Talion began to brand these as well.

Even with such victories, Talion was only slowing them down. He had not even slain the first thousand. What hope had he for defeating the thousands prepared to replace them? At best, he would defeat the Witch King and delay the siege enough so the enemy would run out of farmland to pillage. Starved, they would be forced to return to the Black Gate. However, the situation seemed quite hopeless. He wondered if the Wraith was right and securing the Palantir was the only hope.

He said aloud, "I know you wish to take the Palantir and leave this place."

Celebrimbor answered, "Minas Ithil is crucial to defeating the enemy. I have no wish to see it fall nor its people perish. It was I who argued that we must not abandon it. However, I did not expect so many legions. Alas, if we only had our army and that of Minas Tirith! But it will not be so."

The Wraith continued, "Talion, we must leave soon. The enemy is about to make his move. They did not come here to wait out a siege, but to break Gondor."

In that moment, Talion saw a strange flash of green far off to the right, in the battlefield set at the foot of the wall. He had slain many Orcs here the night before. The ranger drew on Celebrimbor's speed and ran through the carnage of the city. He would investigate this evil. Goblins cursed and stumbled about as they heard a howl in the wind, as he raced past them. Talion dashed up a building close to where the light had appeared from. He scouted the roof for archers. Finding himself alone, he searched the ground below.

He heard the Wraith let out a groan of frustration.

He said, "It is as I said, our labor has been in vain."

The ranger was dumbfounded as he looked down upon two Nazgul. Both he recognized. One was the Ringwraith he had ambushed when he saved Baranor and the other was the Witch King himself. He stood atop a black, armored steed as he raised up his sword. The other Nazgul was doing the same, sending a green light out like a star. Talion saw Orcs around them, each with eyes aglow. Now he saw the hill of dead Orcs gathered at the feet of the wall beginning to stir. Pierced with arrows and boiling oil, they had fallen from the Gondorian's defensive effort. However, they now sprung to life as their wounds vanished. None of them seemed to move properly. They seemed to leer from side to side, and they stood up straight. None let out a word or even a chirp.

"Necromancy," said the Wraith, "These two are necromancers, gifted with such powers from Sauron himself."

Talion looked up for a moment and let out a gasp. He was staring at one of the watch towers that overlooked the outer-ring of the city. Atop its spire, he saw a lidless eye of red, massive and overflowing with fire. He had not seen it as he first approached the area. It was not until he entered the world of the wraiths that it was revealed to him. In the center of this eye was a serpent's pupil. Or rather where it should have been. Instead there was a figure in the void and it gazed upon him.

The Wraith said, "Sauron. He sees us!"

In that moment, the Witch King and looked up to the rooftop.

His deep voice bellowed out through the many streets and caused Talion's blood to freeze.

The voice asked, "Have you come here to die, ranger?"

The ranger fired an arrow over the wall so that he landed atop of it. He was safely away from the Nazgul, even if for but a moment.

Celebrimbor said, "I see. The Witch King has been using his sorcery to fortify the outer city. He will not face us until he has regained his former strength."

"Then we must face him now!" said Talion, sweat dripping from his brow.

"Not yet," said the Wraith, "He sought to kill us in that moment, but now he has fled. He will not show himself again until his hour is come and the pieces are in place."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Let's talk about Hallas for a moment. I promise you I picked the name Hallas from a list of Middle Earth names. I didn't know Ioreth's father was named Hallas as well. Let's discuss Hallas's age for a second as well. While I describe him as a young man, he is seventeen or eighteen, a young adult in his culture. I also call Orison "an old ranger", but he's only in his mid forties.


	10. The Witch King's Arrival and the Fall

**Chapter Ten: The Witch King's Arrival and the Fate of Minas Ithil**

"The most powerful of the Nine, he moves in the stead of his master. His will was stripped of him long ago. Even so, he seeks to conquer all and consume the world in darkness. He cannot conceive of peace nor freedom. There is no draw or bargain in his war. Whatever doomed city his master looks to, the Witch King of Angmar will lead the black armies against. He will see it done." – _Galadriel speaking to Eltariel before her expedition into Mordor._

* * *

Another day passed as Minas Ithil's doom drew closer. Talion felt himself now trapped inside the walls that protected him, a feeling shared by all of Minas Ithil's people. He had done all he could do to keep the first legion in discord. Indeed, what should have been a strong offensive was ruined. With dead Graug, sleepless Orcs sent running from their camps by spiders, and traitors constantly sabotaging the war effort, he had bought the city many days. Yet for all these accomplishments, it changed little. The hundreds he had personally slain returned to life thanks to the Nazgul's cruel spell.

* * *

As dusk approached, Talion returned to the armory to speak with Idril. He had finished scathing every inch of the armory, even sneaking into the General's vault. At this point, he did not care if it was seen as treason. All that remained was to interrogate Castamir himself, but he hoped it would not come to that.

"Talion," said the maiden, "You return again."

He answered, "Idril, are there other vaults that your father hides? If so, you must tell me at once."

She put her hands to her hips and answered, "I am sure there are. However, I do not know of such places. There are many old caverns and tunnels beneath Minas Ithil, although none the Orcs will find. I am sorry."

Talion said, "Very well. I suppose I will turn my attention to the drake."

"Do you intend to slay it?"

"I do. I am sure he has broken its mind and made it a slave. It would be difficult to tame it as I did that warg."

He began to look up to the sky as he envisioned his interception of the Witch King. He imagined the shot necessary to reach it, and the killing stroke to slay the small wyvern.

He said, "It is a shame I did not find the drake that roosts in Cirith Ungol."

"A wild drake so far form Mordor…" said Idril, "Before the siege, I heard rumors of it. I thought I might catch it one day when it veered across the mountains."

"How would you catch such a brute?"

"They are drawn to the scent of burning meat. Charred cattle would do, I believe. You see I read in an old Elvish record of a war between them. The Elves would use the smell of savory meat to attract starving dragons. I do not think drakes are so different. They seek a refined flavor in their food. If it truly lives in Cirith Ungol, it will not have much to cook but Orcs. I do not think it could resist."

Talion said, "If that is true, I should go at once. No, I must first remove the eye that watches the wall. In the morning, I will go to Cirith Ungol and see if I can cook a Caragor."

Idril said, "Then you could take the fight to the skies. Burn their armies in moments. Afterwards, you must let me see it up close. I must know if they can speak."

The ranger laughed lightly and said, "Oh Idril, daughter of Castamir… it sounds as if you have found some hope."

Idril's eyes widened as she realized what she had said.

She said, "Ah… I suppose that is true."

* * *

Dusk fell yet again. Talion flew down from the wall, avoiding the torrent of arrows being fired about him. He landed upon a roof, stabbing an archer with his blade as he landed. Such impossible feats of precision now seemed normal to him. His mind was sharp. A single Orc could no longer hope to threaten him, even without the powers of the ring.

Looking up ahead, Talion saw the eye wreathed in flame standing atop the watchtower. He wasted no time approaching it. With his ghostly powers, he lunged two meters ahead and caught the ledge in his grip. With another leap, he was holding onto a small buttress. Not a moment later, he had pulled himself up into the roost of the tower. Using the Wraith's sight, the ranger could see it clearly. The watch tower vanished and in its place, was a great forge, one of two he had claimed shortly after entering the city. The Witch King had taken it or himself and twisted it to suit his own purposes.

Closely, the pair looked upon the fiery mass. They gazed at the narrow pupil that hid Sauron's true form.

Celebrimbor stated, "This was the armor he dawned in the war of the Last Alliance. He stood as tall as an Olog-Hai with armor that all sword shattered upon. Only a perfect swing between the joints took his finger and his ring."

Talion said, "You speak of Isildur, son of Elendil."

Celebrimbor said, "Indeed."

"In Minas Tirith," said Talion, "I would often gaze up at his likeness, carved into fine stone. We all knew him as the King of kings."

"A bold claim," said the Wraith.

"Not to us. He alone slew the Dark Lord and saved the world from darkness and death. There were none I ever admired so much as he."

"Hmmm" said the Wraith, "Let us return to the task at hand. The eye has seen us so we must move quickly."

Talion realized that Celebrimbor was holding back his opinion on the matter. He was sure it was to say that Isildur had succumbed to the ring. Yes, just as the Bright Lord had. However, he had failed in his quest where Isildur succeeded. For Celebrimbor, was Isildur a subject of shame or of admiration?

"Use the power of the ring. Subjugate it."

"You mean not to destroy it?" asked Talion."

"It is a useful weapon that will let me see the battle from the outside."

Talion stretched out his hand. The ring began to glow blue and the lidless eye flickered. Its fires ran white and wild as the eye's slit pupil widened. Now the fires that made its form were turned silver. In place of the Dark Lord Sauron, was the silhouette of the Bright Lord.

Celebrimbor said, "We have mixed our power with his, but risen victorious. Sauron and his servants will still wield it, so the Witch King may not destroy his creation. As such, it will be a tool used by both sides of this war. However, this means much more for us. It means that the new ring can overcome to the power of Sauron and his lieutenant."

"So, there is a chance," whispered Talion.

With that, they returned to the ranks. Talion would say his farewells to Baranor and Idril. It would be a day or two before he returned from his drake hunt. They would need words of encouragement until then if they were to last the night.

* * *

The crimson wings of the drake draped the back of the camp as it landed beside his blackguard. The Witch King now dismounted and headed towards his war tent. Inside, his servants awaited him. An Orc handed him his tools. In one hand, he held his long sword, the slayer of kings. And now in his other hand, he grabbed hold of the handle to a great flail. Its size was dwarfed by none. No mortal man, even the strongest, could hope to master it. Made of Adamant, it could not be shattered nor chipped. Both glowed a feint green as they had been merged within the realm of the Wraith. A single swing would tear off a knight's head or break the bones of a troll. With these weapons, he would now make his war.

"Once," said the High Commander, "This fortress was home to my master. So it will be again."

* * *

From the city ranks, Talion gazed up in horror. The Wraith had spied it through his new eye. Something stirred in the enemy ranks at last.

Celebrimbor said softly, "So it comes to this at last."

* * *

Idril gazed up from the treasury. She had been reflecting on the ranger's words and letting them heal her. Yet at in a single moment, they shattered. Idril's face became sad as she saw the wings of the drake approaching overhead, and heard the metal steps of the black army marching forward. There would be no holding them back this time.

She whispered, "Such a foolish dream…"

* * *

The drake landed abruptly onto the ground, sending a shock wave of dust. Its master gazed forward at the gate of the inner city. A great wooden gate barred by iron and bolt. Fire and battering ram could not break it. The clubs of trolls and the fist of the Graug would take too long. So he would personally see to this matter. The Witch King drew out his sword and rose it into the air. In that moment he let out a piercing scream that was heard throughout the city. Their screams were eclipsed by his own. He tore the courage from the heart of men. Powered by the dark of night, the fear of the living, and the ring of his master, his will challenged that of the entire city. He fed upon their despair and broke their minds. Now all that remained was to break the foundations of their fortress.

His sword became entrenched in a sickly green fire that ran up the blade as if if it were dipped in oil. The air around it began to be pulled in, devoured by the dark magic. Yet his cries overwhelmed even the sound of this spell. In this moment, he could not be stopped.

His hour had come.

The Witch King aimed his sword towards the center of the gates. From the air in front of him, a green orb formed as if it were pulling in streams of water. When all of the magic had gathered, he unleashed it upon the wall. The air exploded around him, sending his guards off their feet. The orb shot forward into the gate and tore it open. All behind it were obliterated. The great wooden gates came crashing down. Green flames took on a natural color as they fed upon the broken keep.

The Witch King said, "Bring forth the Olog-Hai."

* * *

Talion found himself laying upon the ground, rubble all about him. His ears were ringing and his sight was blurry. He had been close to the gates when it went off. Knowing the Witch King was approaching, he had hoped to organize the ranks. However, the sound of the Nazgul and the might of his magic had shattered the garrison. As he looked up at the burning gate, he saw Orcs pouring in. These were shirtless and weak. Expendable grunts meant to overwhelm the defenses and waste the arrows of Gondor.

Although dazed, Talion drew on his strength and pulled himself to his feet. He brushed aside his long locks of hair so that he could evaluate the enemy. With his strength at its best, he charged at the Orcs scattering through the breached gateway. The closest Orc had only a moment to shriek in fear as he lopped of its head. Already, three more Orcs were bolting at him. He blocked a single swing while delivering a kick to the Orc behind him. The third Orc found itself stunned as the Wraith knocked it backwards. Together, they drew out the Elven glave. With a single swing, they swept several goblins off of their feet and to the ground. They spun around now, avoiding the jabs of spears and the slashes of broadswords and cleavers. The Gondorians now began to regain themselves. Seeing the lone warrior face off against the enemy had inspired them.

"Push them back!" he heard Baranor shout as he rode in. With a swing of his sword, he cut open the throat of an Orc sergeant. As Talion began to drive them to the outside, the black-armored soldiers of Minas Ithil came to his aid. With expert swings and blocks, they easily slew the poorly trained goblins. In but a few minutes, the Orc company was slain. However, more were already pouring in.

"Ranger, retreat!" shouted Baranor.

Talion tore his sword away from his opponent and sped toward an approaching battalion of Gondorian archers. As he passed through their ranks, Baranor aimed his sword forward and gave the order. The defenseless Orcs charged forward in desperation. However, the archers, armed with crossbows, kneeled down low. Above, another row of archers were taking aim. The crouched row of marksmen sent their flurry of arrows. The first wave of Orcs dropped dead. Then the second.

The ranger rolled to the side as he saw a great spear tossed towards him. As he regained himself, he saw it had plunged into the row of archers, skewering too. The spear was too large to be wielded by any Uruk-Hai other than Belos himself. Instead, he saw a grey-hided troll marching forward. One tanned with green and another in brown were beside it. Each Olog was twice the size of a Uruk-Hai. The one that had thrown the spear stopped as it saw the ranger standing in a pool of black blood. It glared and opened its jaws, baring fangs the size of daggers. Saliva shot out as it let out a bellow like a heard of swine and horses. In its hand, it carried a great club.

"Its hide will be thick," said Celebrimbor, "Go for the eyes and mouth."

Before he could answer, the troll dashed forward and took Talion by surprise. Talion rolled to the side. The other trolls now charged into the archers. Dozens of arrows pierced their skin. They howled in pain but carried on. With a single swing of their clubs and hammers, they sent the poor soldiers into the air. A downward swing was enough to crush them within their own armor. Another grabbed hold of a man and flung him screaming into a wall. Meanwhile, Talion slashed at the back of the troll's leg. The cut was far too shallow, and it reeled its arm backwards. Talion was smashed to the side and into a wall as it swung at him. Blood trickled from his lower lip as he had sunk his teeth into it during the impact. A moment later, the troll swung again and broke open the side of the building. Talion survived by running beneath its lumber-like legs.

In a deep voice, the troll demanded to know, "Where are you, Man-filth?"

He turned around as Talion ran back below his legs, avoiding its slow reactions. The ranger then pulled back on the Elven bow and fired it hard into the back of its skull. The troll roared in pain as the arrow lodged into its thick flesh. Now the ranger appeared on its back. With his dagger in hand, he dug into the wound until he cracked through the skull. With its broad, muscular arms, the troll could not grab him. It crashed its back against the wall, but the ranger would not lose balance. Talion roared in anger and plunged the dagger in one more time. This time he broke into its cranium and slew it. The troll began to moan in a confused voice before it began to stumbl and tilt over. Talion rolled off as it collapsed behind him. He quickly drew on the ring again and sent a sheet of ice beneath another Olog-Hai. The ice crept up its leg. The troll was too strong and easily broke free. It turned to look at Talion in frustration. The ranger fired off an arrow this time, sending it perfectly into its eye socket. It let out another resonated roar as it clutched at its head. The Gravewalker sent more ice this time, so that it climbed up its entire body and formed a hill around its legs. As the troll roared in frustration, he sent another arrow, this one into its mouth. Meanwhile ,the last troll was shot dead by arrows and a javelin lodged in its throat. However, Talion saw that his garrison was slaughtered but for Baranor and a few archers. A single troll would be enough to slay a dozen men. All hoped dearly that they had slain all of them.

"To me!" shouted Baranor, "All companies to me!"

Talion saw more horseback riders and shield-bearers coming up the center road. Reinforcements had arrived. Mordor would now have to contend with the eight thousand Gondorian soldiers that protected Minas Ithil.

As this moment of hope appeared before him, he heard the sound of the Nazgul again take the hearts of his comrades. A host of armored Uruk now entered, each a tall Uruk-Hai led by a seasoned sergeant. However, leading the companies was the head of another legion… a lieutenant that was neither Orc nor Wraith. It was an armored Olog-Hai and he brought his colossal brothers with him. This one stood far over them so that his head reached over the other trolls. It was a troll of scarred, dark flesh and feral orange eyes. He wore a gilded chest piece of iron and gold and a helmet with two horns like a bull. In his hands, was a wooden club with great iron spikes tied to it like a mace.

The Olog-Hai said, "My master comes for you ranger. Ah… not if I slay you first."

Talion jumped sideways to avoid the Olog's preemptive blow. An unfortunate Orc behind him was sent hurdling several meters away. The ranger saw multiple openings on its stomach and legs, but its chest and head were protected by thick armor plating. Even worse, armored Orcs and two Olog were in tow. They began to flank and charge the ranger as he dueled the great troll.

One of the Gondorian sergeants sent his spearmen forward and began to skewer a nearby troll. The Warchief sent one last swing at Talion. As the ranger retreated, he turned his attention to the soldiers. The spearmen ran forward, hoping to reach his legs and cut him down. However, the War Troll's arm was too long. The moment they entered his range, his morning star broke the ranks. Their dead corpses were bashed about and rent to pieces. Behind them, the ranger danced past the swings of the smaller Ologs. He needed to get close.

The War Troll now spun around and let out his greatest war cry. Any that had thought to help Talion, now retreated to behind the defensive line. As it was, Talion was about to be slain by Orcs and Olog on all fronts. The ranger then summoned on the ring. He plunged the white glave into the ground and sent out a sheet of ice that froze all those around him.

"It is too thin," said the Wraith, "It will not hold them."

"I only need one," said Talion.

He charged at a half-frozen Olog and circled around so he was facing its back. With ease, he leapt up behind it and grabbed hold of its head.

"You are mine!" shouted the Wraith, "You serve the Bright Lord!"

As the War Troll charged at Talion, hoping to save his follower, he was beaten back by a familiar club. Talion rode atop the Olog-Hai, firing arrows at his enemy. The War Troll coughed up blood as the other troll battered its exposed stomach. He immediately charged forward like a ram and pinned the troll to the wall. Talion hopped overhead during the impact. As he flipped above, he fired an arrow into the helm of the troll.

"Push him to me!" shouted Talion as he closed his fist and gave his order.

The other troll was being punched to death by his lieutenant. With Talion's order, it managed to regain enough strength to push back the larger Olog. Talion now created more ice beneath, so that the ice had formed under its moving feet. He then ran up behind the troll and summoned his glave. As the ice shattered, the War Troll stumbled backwards. Its entire weight now worked against it. Talion's glave was sharper than any weapon and could not be shattered. Like the weapon of the Nazgul, its deadliness was absolute. However, the glave could not remain in the world of the living too long without waning in power. The War Troll roared in pain as it fell upon the spear. The spear cracked opened the ground as it was crushed by the troll's immense weight. It now dug deep into his back until becoming lodged within him.

Talion now fired arrows into the armored Orcs that were matching the Gondorian's finest blow for blow. His arrow vanished as he swung down his sword into the helm of an Uruk. In the same moment, he fired yet again and decapitated another Orc. The chain of death continued as the ring gave him strength. As his attack concluded, a dozen Uruk lay dead. Those that remained dashed away in fear from the Gravewalker, now knowing the legends were true.

Behind Talion, Baranor was having barricades of wooden pikes and spears set up. Archers and spearmen armed with shields were ready. A thousand soldiers were preparing to push the enemy back out of the gate.

Talion now ordered his dying troll to walk to the great gateway and there to take its own life. It roared in fury and pain as it swung at the goblins. At last, they took it down. Pierced by arrows and javelins, its body fell on the doorway.

Talion said, "Bring wood. We will stack the armored ones into a pile and block the way just as the troll did. Build a barricade behind it."

Baranor shouted to him, "And if the Witch King returns?"

"I doubt he can perform such a spell twice in so short a time"

"Indeed," said Celebrimbor, "Such magic was like that of an ancient wizard, one of the Maiar of old."

"If he is weakened, then we can win," said Talion.

Fire rained down from overhead. The legion behind him was immolated as the drake swooped down on them. A trail of fire ran down the entirety of the center road. Talion grabbed hold of a small goblin and held it in front of him with a knife. The poor creature writhed as its master's flames consumed it.

"Return fire!" shouted Baranor, "Shoot it down!"

RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHH!

The sound of death resonated through the ranks once more. The archers performed poorly as they succumbed to fear. Some arrows went off course and others were never fired. Without injury, the drake propelled itself up again and out of range. From the gate, the Gondorians now heard a new evil approaching.

The Wraith said, "We must seal the way with ice!"

Talion and the Elf gaped as they saw the troll's body pulled aside by a great clawed hand. A Graug now held the corpse of the slain Olog in the air and gazed at it. Talion watched it pulled back its arm with the corpse held tightly in its grasp. Fear ran through his mind and Talion fired an arrow to a rooftop. A moment later the troll's body had been thrown into the building. The foundations cracked and Talion was forced to leap down again. The War Graug was massive, though not as big as the ancient one he hunted in Núrn. Unlike its starved brothers, this one was hearty and wore full armor. Between its legs, new Orc foot soldiers breached the wall. The Graug did not step any farther. Instead, it retreated back through the gate. The wall began to rumble as the beast tried to fit through. Gathered behind it, was a great row of soldiers. Talion faintly saw their outline behind the Graug. In the front of this army was another troll. This one was fully armored with razor-sharp Mordor plates running across its entire body. It carried a longsword the size of a horse. With it, were another five armored Olog and a row of Orcs wielding lances and box shields. Standing beside them was another black rider on a twisted horse. As for the other Nazgul, they remained in the shadows.

Talion said, "A deadly company awaits victory here. Even if we send them back, we must face this evil?"

The Wraith answered, "The enemy intends to crush us here and now."

"It will not be so," said the ranger, "He will rue this day."

He heard the scream of the Witch King again as it descended upon the wall. With its claws, the drake plucked up soldiers and scattered them below. He broke open their trebuchets and ballistae. Fire consumed all in his path.

Talion said, "I have grown tired of these flames."

He saw the drake encircling them above. In the cover of darkness, none of the men could hope to see it. They could only shake in fear of what was to come. For Talion, its form was laid bare before him. He pulled upon the cord of the bow and lined up a shot.

Celebrimbor said, "It is out of range. Bring us up to him."

The drake began to fire short bursts of fire from its throat. These fired like scorching cannonballs. As they hit the ground, the Gondorians were blown apart in the explosion. The drake unleashed more flames upon the rooftop where the ranger was. A ball of fire obliterated his position. In that moment, the ranger appeared in the air with his bow already lined up for another shot. The Witch King's gaze fell upon him as he realized the hero's intentions. He could clearly see the wraith that guided him. Its arrow ran up past the dragon's snout until it was level with the Black Captain's head. The arrow vanished, and the ranger appeared once more. He swung at the Witch King so that the frost would blind him. He then reached down to the drake and tore at its mind. He could not bend its will nor steal it from the iron grip of the Witch King. However, he could cause it pain as he tried to dominate it. The drake let out a roar as it began to slow down. As its wings became still, Talion swung down between the ridges in his neck. The drake turned its head, crying out in pain and spewing flames behind it. Talion ignited the fire along his sword and let it run through his flesh.

The wyvern spun over as its blood showered down upon the city. As its wings flailed madly about, the ranger lost his footing. Celebrimbor took form and leveled him out so that they landed amidst the battlefield unharmed. Overhead, Talion saw the drake crash into the side of a tower, rending it to pieces. As for its rider, he released the reigns. Talion saw a trail of black smoke rain down from the sky. It took form in front of him. At last, they would have their duel.

The Lord of the Nazgul gazed proudly at his prey, a sword in one hand and a great flail in the other. Both Talion and Celebrimbor marveled at the size of it. His opponent let out a hiss as he slowly approached the ranger. Beneath the hood, Talion could see the shrunken features of the old king of men. Shrunken and with white hair, he reminded him of his own wraith. However, Talion could not use the sight of the wraith too long. Full of whispers and the ripples of the netherworld, it was far too distracting. Fortunately, Talion had the eyes of a trained ranger. Even in the cover of darkness, he could see the mightiest of Sauron's servants striding forward.

The Witch King saluted Talion with his silver sword. Talion rose his sword in the same gesture. With that, the greatest of warriors of both armies flew forward. The Witch King's wail pierced Talion's ears, but he would not be stopped. He ducked below the swing of the Witch King's sword. The Nazgul released his flail, choosing to duel with blade alone. He held the great sword with a single hand. Each of his swings was perfectly aimed and faster than any, even the Black Hand. Talion parried them only at the last moment. Each blow forced him backwards with the strength of an Olog, but he would not have it. He rolled backwards and already as he landed, he sent an arrow forward. He emerged at the Witch King's side and swung down. The Black Captain's free hand grabbed him by the throat and into the ground. His sword stabbed downwards, but Talion pulled in his legs and regained his footing. The Gravewalker was reminded of the Hammer's same countermove. Indeed, the Witch King was the one who trained the Black Captains in the art of war.

The Witch King swung his sword and instantly reeled it backwards, so he held it level to Talion's head. He lunged forward with a quick thrust, aiming for his opponent's skull. Talion moved his head to the side and angled his sword for the enemy's throat. The Witch King became intangible and the sword passed through him. He emerged in front of it and sent a high swing at his opponent. Talion's cross guard collided with the enemy's. He knew a single mistake would cost him and he would be infected by the Morgul blade. He pulled out the Elven glave and swung it at the Wraith. The Wraith's blade shattered through the shaft before Talion could finish his swing. Now, a cut ran through his plates of armor, destroying it as if it were leather. He had no choice but to summon the power of the ring.

"Talion," said Celebrimbor, "Remember how we first scattered them."

The ring hummed and the inscriptions upon it glowed brightly.

"A ring… you have made a new ring, Celebrimbor," said the Ringwraith, "So, this is the source of your courage."

Talion summoned the glave once again and slammed it into the ground. The blast of wind sent the companies about him backwards. Waves of wind scattered the Orcs and Men alike. The Witch King drew his sword in another salute. The green fires once again wrapped around the blade. Talion called upon more power. The Witch King's robes rippled and Talion saw his ghostly glow being torn about. However, the Nazgul swung out his sword and cut through the magic. Talion was knocked backwards from the raw power alone. The Witch King switched his blade to his left hand and reached down for his other weapon. The great flail.

Talion fired off an arrow as the head of the flail tore through the air. Like the charge of an Oliphant, it could not be stopped. The Witch King effortlessly spun it around each time the ranger approached. When the Gravewalker teleport ed through it, the Witch King's sword was ready to block him. Talion rolled about as the flail dug deep into the road, shattering the stone pavement. He swung his sword and sent great ice crystals forward. The Ringwraith passed through them unharmed. He suddenly vanished from sight and encircled his opponent. A black cloud now blinded Talion. His sharp eyes searched for a sign of where the Witch King would strike. Suddenly, he heard the hum of the enemy's sword approaching. Talion's arrow was ready and appeared above the Witch King with a downward strike. The sword cut only air as the black smoke appeared once more. Talion swung his sword around as his opponent materialized. He ducked below the swing of his flail. He saw the glimmer of the Witch King's sword appearing from a back swing. As the flail passed by, his sword closely followed. Talion blocked the enemy's blade with the blunt edge of his sword and parried it upwards. Talion's sword was now behind the enemy's own weapon and he saw his opening.

Talion's sword came swiftly down upon the Witch King. In that moment, the Witch King grabbed Talion by the wrist and wrenched his arm to the side. He had dropped both his weapons, choosing to brandish a small dagger. Talion's eyes widened as he felt the sting of the blade. He looked down to see it had pierced the break in his armor, split open by the Wraith's slash. A dark power now began to flow through his veins, stemming from the stab wound. He screamed in pain and knocked the Witch King back with a kick to his stomach. As the Ringwraith released him, the ranger ducked low and called upon his bow. He fired it so that he escaped to a nearby rooftop. Looking down, he saw the wound was now black. His muscles were becoming stiff. Even so, the power of the ring slowed down the infection.

"What is happening to me?"

"A Morgul blade has infected you. Soon you will be one of them. We must die."

"Not yet. We must evacuate the city and find the Palantir."

"Indeed."

* * *

The War Graug had retreated for now. An entire legion now poured into the city, although not the Witch King's finest. These remained outside the wall. Olog and Warg riders dashed across the main road, breaking the barricades and sending back the Gondorian soldiers.

"Retreat!" shouted Baranor, "Retreat to the royal courtyard!"

As the Gondorians made their escape, the Witch King appeared before them. They froze in horror as they stared up at him. With a swing of his blade, he decapitated an officer. Many now scattered around him as he lay waste to the masses. His mighty flail took off the head of another. With each swing, he let out another scream that curled their blood. As one, they cried out in fear. Of course, there were those that resisted. Out of the hundreds that fled, dozens rose up against him. They dashed at him with shield and spear in hand, hoping to impale him. The Witch King's flail battered their shields. His sword slashed them apart as he wove through their ranks. From behind, a brave officer, atop a horse, charged at him. The Witch King spun about, launching his flail into their shield-bearers while his sword cut up those that came to close. At the last moment, he moved beside the horse and his sword came to its throat. The horse keeled over and its rider fell onto his stomach. Before he could recover, the High Commander's bladed foot bore down upon him, crushing his skull with ease. Soaked in their blood, he now called in his brethren. It was time to deal with the last of the resistance.

* * *

Talion clutched at the wound in his stomach as he flew about the rooftops, heading for the location of General Castamir. He could wait no longer for the Palantir. As he made his way, he heard a feint sound beside him and sent his blade in its direction. Without fail, the stranger blocked his attack. He saw a curved, elegant dagger laced with gold and silver. It hummed as it resonated against his blade. He turned to see a hooded, slim figure clad in armor like feathers and a set of dark green robes. The fair face he looked upon was that of an Elf.

She said, "You are poisoned, ranger. You cannot win this battle alone. Let us face this doom together."

* * *

Castamir watched from the height of the royal tower as the Gondorian soldiers and the masses of civilians ran to his mighty estate. Behind them, legions of Orc were in pursuit. These were not the mindless rabble of Orcs he was used to. These were led by a trained officer, kept in rows, and divided by their function in the army. The Witch King's victory had been inevitable. Castamir had known this for months now. He had known it when Sauron showed him the legions leaving Mordor when he had dared to stare into the Palantir. All that awaited him was despair. Even now, despair claimed him.

Through the windows, black plumes of smoke erupted. They spilled onto the ground and out sprung the hooded-figures of the Nazgul. Leading them was the High Commander himself.

"Your Palantir" said the General. He quickly bowed to the ground.

"I have obeyed your every command."

"Your ranger," said a Nazgul, "Has delayed the siege many days."

"He can do nothing against so many. Against you. Please… give me my daughter."

The Witch King said, "Where is the map?"

"Ah… it is not needed. The people can do nothing but await death or imprisonment."

The Witch King grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. Castamir gagged and struggled in vein.

"Wait! I have it. It is on the table!"

As the Witch King released him, one of the Nazgul reached to the tabletop and grabbed hold of the scroll.

Castamir said in a commanding voice, "Now… let her go."

"Father?"

He turned to see Idril standing before him. Castamir's expression swiftly changed into one of fear and shame.

"Idril! Leave at once!"

"Father, what have you done?"

Idril pulled out her sword. The Witch King let out another horrid cry. The shieldmaiden dropped her weapon and fell to her knees trembling.

The Witch King turned to one of his Nazgul and said, "Send the Orcs to these tunnels. Slay all but half."

Idril asked weakly, "W-what have you done, Father? The tunnels… you told them where the people would flee? There is no other way to escape but through the caverns beneath the city!"

"It was for you… I did all for you, Idril. I love you."

He turned to the Witch King and said, "Let her go. That was our deal."

The Witch King said, "You did nothing as the Gravewalker hunted us. Through your despair, you hoped he would bring victory. A fine effort fit for a general of Gondor. And a traitor on all fronts. Kill him."

The Nazgul beside him, the same that had fought Baranor, tore out his sword and ran it through the General's throat. Castamir's eyes widened with surprise as he felt the blood spill from his jugular. His hands wrapped around it as the life poured out of him. He let out a squelching sound as he tried to speak, but it was to no avail. He dropped to his knees and reached out for his daughter. Idril cried out in pain as she gazed into his eyes for the last time and saw the regret that filled them.

The Nazgul that had slain him now strode towards her. His blade was at his side, still crimson with her father's blood. Idril, still trembling with fear and despair, let out a growl of frustration.

She cried out, "Do it then! Kill me if you can!"

She grabbed hold of her sword and blocked his downward swing. The Nazgul let out a piercing screaming at her once again. Idril stumbled backwards but continued to hold her sword, ready for a killing stroke.

"Join him now in death…" said the cruel voice of the crowned Nazgul.

An arrow flew next to him and down came the ranger's swing. The crowned wraith managed to block the sword as Talion continued a flurry of fearsome blows. As they fought, a hooded figure crept up behind the crowd of Nazgul and stabbed one in the back. A green light shone out of it as she pierced it. Several Wraith now spun around as she dashed forward and slid low. Her daggers cut at their legs. She then flipped to the side so that she was beside Talion and Idril.

All three heroes stood against the forces of darkness. Their blades were held high, ready to face the onslaught that was to come.

Talion said to Idril, "You have done well."

She answered, "We must hurry. They know of the tunnels my people will use to escape. They will massacre them."

The crowned Nazgul spoke, "She-Elf, you have come too late. Die now and rise as my puppet."

The hooded Elf said, "If you have the power to slay me, then use it."

The Nazgul now descended upon them. The room erupted into a blinding cloud of smoke and from it, came the cursed blades. In a blink of an eye, death came for them on all sides. Even so, Talion and the Elf stood against them and blocked the swings. Talion summoned the ring and sent out great ice crystals to pierce them. From behind, another Nazgul tried to flank them. Idril rose her blade and blocked it, staggering backwards from the force of its blow. The three of them watched all angles, parrying every strike the Nazgul sent their way.

One with a great hammer broke through the ice crystals while the crowned Nazgul gathered a dark curse to envelop them. The Elf drew up her hand, with a small vile of water in hand. In the darkness, it shone like a perfect light, one that surpassed the moon itself. A light of gold now warmed Idril's frozen body. She looked up to see the enemy's magic could not harm them. It parted as it hit the shield of light that saved her. However, the Nazgul began to slide their swords through the shield, hoping to pierce her even as the light burned their hollow forms. The Elf slipped the light away and dueled them with a pair of silver daggers. She danced elegantly, deflecting two Nazgul as they attacked. Talion summoned Celebrimbor to block a teleporting Ringwraith's strike with his glave. Meanwhile, the ranger ducked below the swing of the hammer. However, he felt himself collapse as the curse of the Morgul blade spread through him.

The Elf said, "I will hold them. Take her while you have strength left. Leave this city."

Talion nodded. He picked up Idril into his arms and fell from the tower. The five Nazgul turned their blades to the assassin. She held out the light of Galadriel and let its light consume the room. The wraith screamed in pain as it hit them. Amidst the shining star, the Witch King drew his sword. An aura of shadow encased him that the light did not penetrate.

The Witch King said, "The city is taken. Die here as a final testament to this victory."

She said, "You of all people should know death is not final and victory… is fleeting. We will meet again my King."

The Elf smiled and threw her off the side of the window. She flipped over it and landed on all fours on a roof below. Like the wind, she dashed forward, soon to gain on the ranger.

* * *

 **Authors' Note:** You may have noticed the appearance of the Witch King and his weapons is closer to his portrayal in Return of the King. For me, this is his best appearance and I wish various adaptations wouldn't try to reinvent it in less grand ways. I love him so much in that movie. Besides, the Hammer already uses Sauron's morning star so having the Witch King use one seems derivative. The Witch King should use a flail and a sword wreathed in flames. He should sound like Andy Serkis and have a scowling crown. I did try to imbue his appearance with the green ghostly elements of the game, suggesting his clothes and weapons are not physical items.


	11. The Survivors and the Horizon

**Chapter Eleven: The Survivors and the Wings on the Horizon**

From the center tower of Minas Ithil, a green beam of light arose. The sound of it deafened all about it and the light blinded those caught in its wake. Now the disease of the Witch King's magic took hold of the city. The black cloud overhead would now rest there as Sauron willed it.

As the reclaimed city fell into darkness, the Witch King stood atop the high tower. In his hand, he held the Palantir. Conjuring its magic, he gazed into it. The orb of darkness now stirred with life as he peered at a great armored figure. Its helmet was covered in spikes and it was constructed with jagged pieces of armor. Two slits marked the eyes, but it appeared empty.

"My lord," said the Witch King, "Minas Ithil has fallen."

A voice that resonated through the room answered. It was as sharp as a fine sword and as deep as the rumbling of an earthquake. It was calm and gentle, but laced with malice. Both figures spoke in Black Speech, in the harsh tones and hisses of its enunciation.

The Dark Lord spoke, "You have done well. I will grant it to you as your capital. From hence forth, it shall be Minas Morgul."

"What should be done of the ranger? He succumbs to the dark arts, but he will surely die before he turns."

"Send forth the Nazgul," said Sauron, "Take the white towers by night. Slay him there so he will not rise again."

The Witch King asked his master, "What of Núrn? The she-Orc and her army protect its borders. Her ranger will return to her side."

"Remain in Minas Morgul. Send the legions back to Mordor, all but half of them. Minas Tirith is weak… it will mount no counterattack. The she-Orc's domain is of greater concern. I will claim it once more."

"As you will it," said his mightiest servant, "So shall it be done. As you will it, let a shadow be cast over all of Middle Earth."

* * *

In a clearing, a hundred miles from the white city, Talion came to rest. He clutched at his wound. His lungs felt as if they were failing him. Now the piercing pain was climbing through his entire body. As he gazed upwards, he could see the green light from the fell city, a reminder of his failure there.

The Wraith said, "We must die. The ring will remain with us, even in death."

His host struggled to answer, "Once we have, I will return to Cirith Ungol… ugh… and… and tame the drake there."

Baranor stood beside him, as did Idril.

Talion said, "I can wait no longer on my quest. What will you do?"

Baranor said, "I… do not know. The people will be safe in Minas Tirith."

"The people?" asked Idril, "What people? Only a few hundred made it out of the city. The rest… the rest are buried there or made slaves of Mordor."

"Idril," said the captain, "I too have failed. We must not dwell on it."

"But we must. We cannot forget them, not for a moment," she said, "I will carry these sins with me always."

"You have done no wrong, Idril!"

"Their deaths are a bane to me, Baranor. I can feel them all. It's just as with my mother, as with my company… my father…my people… all dead because of me."

"It was Gener… it was the Witch King's doing, Not your own."

"It was my life that was traded for a thousand!" she roared, "Why? What worth has my life for another?"

Her face was red from tears and fury

Baranor said, "You… are worth dying for."

Idril's eyes became pained as she heard him utter those words.

"You think those words kind… but that same belief led my father to madness."

She continued to speak,"No… from now on, I will walk my own path. I will go to Mordor."

"What? What madness do you speak of?" asked her friend.

She answered him, "Many soldiers are being sent their as slaves. I will save them. That is the only way to atone."

"For what reason?" asked Baranor, "To what end? To death ends your atonement?"

She answered, "I do not fear death. No longer will I run."

Talion now said, "I will not stop you, but if you do so, go by the road of Cirith Ungol. I will send one of Shelob's children to escort you."

"I… I will go too," said Baranor.

"I travel alone. Stay with our people, Baranor. You are all they have left."

He said, "I will not stand by and do nothing. It is as I said, Idril. I failed my city. I failed my command. I do not know if it is the right path, but we must not leave our comrades to suffer and die. Even more, I will not abandon the general's daughter. You will have to kill me if you disagree."

"Even now," she said, "You believe in me. Very well… But you must speak no more of casting aside my sword. Promise me that, Baranor."

Baranor said, "I promise that I will fight alongside you as long as this is the path you hold to."

Talion said, "So neither of you will go to Minas Tirith with your people? If you follow this path, the road will be one of blood and sorrow."

Idril answered, "Sorrow is with me always. I thank you ranger, for lending your aid. I will accept your escort one last time."

The ranger turned to Baranor and said, "I think it is good you are going with her. One should not journey alone."

Baranor asked, "As you do?"

"Ah… I am not alone."

"Indeed," said a cold female voice, "You are not,"

Talion saw the elven assassin as she approached him. She had pale white skin and golden bangs hanging behind her hood. He marveled at her as she was the first living Elf he had gazed upon. He never expected to see one during his lifetime.

She said, "You risk much on this quest. Yes, I have heard of your dealings. To fight Sauron, you have become host to a wraith and have crafted a ring of power to match his might. A road paved with good intentions. Do you truly think it will lead to victory?"

Talion said, "There is no other road."

"Indeed," she answered, "Even so, can you promise me, Elf-lord, that you will use this ring for good? You who sought to imitate the true ring of power? Even as you proclaim yourself as the Bright Lord?"

Celebrimbor said, "This is war. Much must be sacrificed for the sake of victory."

She said, "Such a path seems defeating to its very cause. Far better to hold back the darkness then join it."

"We will not join it," said the Wraith, "This ring is pure, one of light. We use our power only to dominate the Orc."

"We will see," said the woman, "I prefer to draw on the Evenstar, a jewel that can neither taint nor be tainted. I am Eltariel, the blade of Galadriel. I have fought the dark servants for many years. Orcs, Black Captains, and Nazgul… I have faced them all. However, darkness swiftly returns. I am surprised to find another following a similar path. A mortal joined with the immortal. Highly disturbing, but fascinating all the same."

"Eltariel," said Talion, "I welcome your aid."

"Well, you might not sooner than you think."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"Lord Talion…" said Idril behind him.

He turned around to see her.

"I wish to begin our journey."

Eltariel said, "I will lead them to Cirith Ungol. I have business with you and the spider there."

"Farewell then," said Talion to Idril, "I enjoyed hearing you speak of Gondor's treasures."

Idril's eyes stirred for a moment but then became dead again.

She said, "I will gather my things for the journey."

As she turned to their camp up ahead, Baranor followed after her, bowing lightly to Talion in his passing.

Baranor bowed lightly to him and left.

Eltariel then looked at the ranger and said, "I give you this last word of wisdom. The day will come when I will be forced to slay you and to take the ring from your fingers. In truth, that day is upon us. Your ring can hold back the Nazgul's curse no longer. I must kill you now. Fear not for it will be a painless death. I will bring your effects to Cirith Ungol."

Celebrimbor said, "The ring and the sword are connected to the realm of the dead. They will follow with us."

Indeed, the sword contained a small portion of his power. If he had not, the Witch King's blade would have shattered it.

He then added, "Do not think to try to take the ring from us as we die, or I will hunt you through all of Mordor."

"Be grateful," said Eltariel, "I am quite generous, am I not to aid you in your passing? Now, will you die for me ranger?"

Talion said, "Wait, but a moment. I must…"

She unsheathed one of her short blades and removed his head cleanly from his body with a single swipe. As Talion passed into the land of the dead, he heard Idril and Baranor scream in terror.

* * *

He awoke on an ivory tower outside of the black mountains. For what felt like hours, Talion did not so much as move. His body felt tired and old.

"Death…" he said, "Is becoming more painful. I do not think I can do this much longer, Celebrimbor."

The ranger said, "I feel the weight of the dead upon me. I hear the voices of… of my old family calling out to me. I hear us beckoned to the hall of the Elves. Memories of what was stolen from me, of what cannot be. If not for Ursa and Inga, I do not know if I could return to life."

"Would you leave Middle Earth to its fate?" asked the Bright Lord.

"No," said Talion, "As long as my body draws strength, I will fight. Only… it feels as if it takes longer to return. It was only minutes ago we were slain but… it feels like years."

"Yes…" said Celebrimbor, "Eternity is a lonely thing, spent in darkness and silence."

* * *

Shelob said, "Minas Ithil has fallen and the Witch King has gained his stronghold in the West. I will not lay blame elsewhere. It was I who sent so few against the grand army."

Talion said, "I could not stand aside and do nothing."

"Will you take the ring to Núrn? Will you raise an army there and prepare for the darkness that is to come?"

The Bright Lord spoke to her and said, "I will raise armies across all of Mordor. Núrn… Seregost… Gorgoroth… Minas Morgul… they will all be conquered. With the ring, we can bend thousands of Orcs to our will."

Shelob replied, "Then you will have your wish… Bright Lord. Power and peace. In place of darkness, a world bathed in light. I wonder if such rays will catch the world afire."

The Bright Lord said, "Far better than weaving webs in the underworld, catching only sparks of light. You who have chosen solitude, to hide yourself away from all of Middle Earth."

Shelob's eyes became narrow as she looked at him. Celebrimbor's taunts had reached her. It was then that Talion was reminded of the Bright Lord's warning. He now wondered if she intended to devourer them both.

Talion said, "We take our leave. With your permission, we will remain here in Cirith Ungol a little longer. I must meet with Galadriel's assassin once again and… I will find this drake. I think it will suit my purposes perfectly."

"For war?" asked Shelob.

Her eyes softened again, and she smiled mischievously.

She continued, "No… I see…. So that is your wish."

"Yes," he answered, "To return home."

* * *

The crimson gate of Fort Morn was now complete. With its back against a broad mountain and another wall set to the sea, it had become a prime fortress. One that rivaled those of the great castles being erected throughout Mordor. Indeed, it could even match the Tower's keep in Ered Glamroth. With plates of red adamant, spikes of iron, and a new gate of metal and timber, it was nearly ready for war. At the moment, the Warchief was gathering information on the construction of Barad-dûr, the fortress of Ered Galmroth, her home in Udûn, Helm's Deep, and the keeps of men. With such materials, she was deciding on what additional defenses to use. From what she had learned of Minas Ithil, Gondorians utilized oil and fire in the defenses. Ursa also ordered ballistae and trebuchets to be erected. Ursa now was devising a contraption of her own invention. In her era, it was not uncommon for notches between the tops of the wall to be built for archers. With this as an inspiration, she sought to create a new defense.

Ursa gazed at the model of Fort Morn. Her eyes leered at the walls s she kept an inquisitive finger beneath her chin. She had stared at it for many hours. Torn up paper was littered about the floor of the war room. Her strategists were now asleep or elsewhere.

"A platform of some sort…."

She looked at the chunks of wood she had used for the models. One was tossed to the ground, a notch of wood accidentally cut like a triangle. She looked it over, hoping the shape would offer her some answer. Her golden eye now widened as she began to realize it. Ursa ran over to the wall of the model castle. She placed the triangular piece of wood on top of the model castle so that it floated above it. The flat side stuck forward at the front of the wall as she did.

Ursa said, "Yes… This shape. We can build it on the front of the wall. A roost for archers to drop stones upon the invaders… We can place openings in the roost for them to fire safely."

"Alas," she continued, "It would have been better to build such things as the wall was being put together. Now we can only build them atop it… they will be fragile."

Ursa now rubbed her eyes. She realized she had been working all night.

"Inga!" she cried.

Ursa quickly scurried out of the war room and towards her chambers. She had only intended to work until nightfall, then she would take over her nurse's duties and sleep beside her child. However, as she approached her bedroom, she glimpsed inside and saw the silhouette of a person there sitting on the edge of her bed. It was her maid, sitting silently with the light of dawn now setting the room aglow. Ursa saw in her arms, Inga sleeping softly. Ursa's sudden appearance caused the nurse to stir from her slumber.

Ursa said, "I thank you. I kept you here all night. Forgive me."

"Begging your pardon," said the woman, "I am only doing my duties. There is nothing to forgive. In any case, she slept well tonight."

"She does," said Ursa, "when in your care."

Ursa could not hide the hurt in her voice, even though she had meant it as a compliment.

"Well then, my lady," said the other woman, "I will take my leave."

The maid stood up from the bed and handed over the child to her mother.

Ursa bowed briskly and said, "I am in your debt."

Even so, she could not help but wonder who it was that Inga would call mother. What was her justification for this failing? Even in peacetimes, she was away far too often. What would become of their bond when Ursa marched off to war?

Ursa's hand stroked at her daughter's small tufts of hair. The exhausted Warchief took Inga to the window side. The infant remained asleep as her mother took a glimpse at the horizon of the sea.

"Inga," whispered Ursa, "I was not here for you tonight. Forgive me. I have brought you a gift. A home by the sea, safe from the hands of Sauron. These walls will keep you safe. Mother will keep you safe… always."

Her eyes began to falter. She placed Inga back into her crib and pulled a blanket of soft fur over her. She then collapsed onto her knees. Ursa gazed at her daughter from between the bars. Had she grown a bit? She seemed to be putting on some weight now. If so, Inga would surely grow up healthy and strong. As Ursa smiled at the thought, a veil was cast over her vision. Her eyes, dark with bags, now shut. In a moment, her head fell against the crib and her breathing became steady. She would sleep by Inga's side until the afternoon.

* * *

Lithariel's blond braids streaked past Hallas' vision as she darted to his side. He turned his feet as quickly as she could so that she couldn't throw him off balance. Her sword came down from above her shoulder and cut down towards his right side. Hallas quickly prepared a counterattack, sending his sword at her exposed torso. His swing was fast, but Lithariel had begun to step back as she pivoted her sword. The tip of the boy's sword sliced the air in front of her face. She quickly pulled up her blade, dragging his sword up with hers. She placed her free hand beneath the flat of her sword and guided it to the side. Hallas found his sword shoved away to his left and Lithariel's sword at his throat.

Lithariel said, "You were ready for my speed this time. If I hadn't feinted, it would be my loss."

"Ah! I thought I had you that time, my lady!"

She said, "You grow stronger by the day."

"Lady Lithariel," said Hallas softly, "Thank you again for agreeing to train me."

She answered him, "I only train you when I visit your Queen. For your prowess, I would thank the one you call your master."

Hallas said, "Orison is off to the town to mingle at the tavern."

Lithariel said, "A tavern? Are there many travelers on the road of Khand?"

He answered, "More people have come to make the fortress their home, especially those working for Queen Ursa. And the people of this land do love their ale and music."

Lithariel asked, "I did not think they would live beside the Orc so quickly."

A voice from behind her answered, "'Quickly?' It has taken thousands of years."

The pair turned to see the Queen wearing her light blue robes meant for Spring. In her arms, was a small sling where Inga lay nested. The baby let out coos and sucked on its thumbs, saliva dribbling from her mouth. Ursa quickly pulled out her a handkerchief from the long sleeves of her robes, and wiped the child's face. Ursa's eyes showed amusement at her daughter, but they turned grave when she looked at Lithariel.

The Warchief uttered, "Many were left homeless when the Orc took Núrn. As it is, they live beside each other, but not hand in hand. The Orc keep to their own section of the city, even though there is no such law."

Lithariel said, "I think it may be for the best, lest another revolt arise."

Ursa said, "With the Nazgul's invasion thwarted, there is indeed a sense of unity… but only a sense. I wish for the division between our races to vanish. I hope that I am leading us to a path of unity; I hope that merely living together in Fort Morn is a sign that peace is possible. Yes, that is my wish."

Lithariel said, "Such ambition! For many, joining forces was already a miracle. Well… perhaps another is possible if you are in charge."

Hallas ran up to the Queen and bowed before her. Having not been listening, he now spoke of his own interests.

He said, "Lady Lithariel has been training me… I believe if I can continue these lessons I will be able to fight beside you in the next battle."

Ursa said, "You have done well, Hallas. Even so, I wish I could keep you here in safety… away from harm. I suppose you have your pride as a man and as a warrior. Then I shall start by having you begin your duties as my bodyguard. When you've have rested a bit, join me. I have plans to deliver to our architects. I hope that you will watch over me, Hallas."

"I will do so with my life," he answered.

Lithariel tried to suppress her laughter as she saw him admiring her so shamelessly. The Queen's behavior also amused her.

Ursa beamed at him again, just as she always did, and said, "Then I shall be counting on you."

She drove his heart mad for the hundredth time since they had met.

Ursa now said, "Now go and be ready. I will return."

"Where to?" asked Lithariel.

Hallas interrupted, "To the road of Khand? To the gate of Fort Morn?"

"Yes," she answered, "To wait for him… as always."

Hallas's eyes lowered as he felt a raw emotion begin to plague him. He cursed himself for such feelings, desiring for his intentions with Ursa to be pure. It would be harder from now on as he protected her and remained close by her side. In any case, hearing her vex over Talion as always confused him. He did not know if he wanted to meet the man who had won her heart or if he wished him to remain away a bit longer.

* * *

The Warchief stood at the empty road yet again, gazing longingly as far as her eye could see. Merchants and caravans often betrayed her eyes, offering false hope until they drew close. Today she would not have it. Half of Núrn was now hers. She had the greatest of its keeps as her own, and a grand army to challenge all. However, it meant little without Talion.

She whispered, "Lord Talion… Happy Birthday…"

With that, tears ran down her face. He had left before their anniversary, and now he had missed the day of his birth. Three days ago, it would have been celebrated. In her hands, she held his gift: a rolled-up piece of white cloth tied with a red chord. Every day she had brought it to the road in hopes to hand it to him. She knew it was a silly dream, but she could not help but fantasize about his return. Ursa wiped away her tears now.

"My lady, it has been an hour. Should we not return home?"

She heard Hallas run up, clad in a set of silver armor she had gifted him with, based off of that of Minas Tirith. It was forged under the guidance of her father.

"Of course," she said, "Let us be off then."

Suddenly, she heard a fell cry from the mountains. Ursa quickly spun around back towards the road. She looked up and around, searching for the source of this disturbance. At last, she caught a glimpse of something. A black figure in the air. Like a great raven, it soared ever closer. It let out another horrifying cry..

Hallas said, "My lady! It is a devil from Mordor! We must flee and close the gate!"

Ursa's eyes remained fix on it for another moment, reading and calculating even as emotion overtook her.

She asked, "A drake? So far from Gorgoroth?"

"Take this," she said as she handed him the flag, "And return to the gate. Sound the alarm but do not fire upon them… not unless they strike first."

"We must go! As your bodyguard, I cannot abandon you."

Ursa said, "It's him… I know it."

The Warchief's eyes became deathly serious as she stood her ground. Her cape fluttered as a great wind came in from the coast. She could not hear Hallas calling at her, even as he pulled out his sword from its sheath.

The wings that had seemed like shadows now appeared crimson as rays of sun hit them. The beast's wingspan was about eighteen feet, large enough to pluck an Orc from the ground and swallow it whole in its colossal jaws. Ursa's hand was stretched out towards the drake. As Hallas looked at her, he wondered if she was gazing out to the future or preparing to summon fire to burn its rider.

The drake was now only a few hundred feet away. The duo on the ground could see that it was not a hooded Nazgul, but a man clad in armor. His long hair blew about in the wind.

"My lord has come at last," she said.

Ursa lowered her arms and placed her hands on her chest. The fierce eye of the Warchief vanished and her demeanor softened to bliss. Her cheeks turned flush and a smile ran across her face. She felt a single tear now trickle down her cheek. She did not recoil even as the drake hovered over her. Its wings sent her dress fluttering up to her knees. Hallas covered his face as the wind whipped him, but the Queen did not hesitate. She would not look away from him, not even for a second. With a quake, the drake landed on its two thick legs. It let out a final groan as its rider released it. Yes, as she looked up, she saw her ranger, weary from battle but with eyes that did not falter as they stared back at her. Lord Talion had returned.


	12. The Return of the Lords and the Banner

**Chapter Twelve: The Return of the Lords and the Banner of the White Tree**

"You wish me to speak of Talion? If you were to ask me of him, I would tell you he is kind, even if he first seems stern. Yes, he can seem frightening and be short-tempered at times. Even so, no evil can erase the good that is within him… that I have seen as long as I have known him. He is a fine ranger of Gondor, a warrior without compare, and a great leader. As a husband, I doubt a woman could ask for more…. Handsome and romantic. And soon… soon he will to be a great father. I am sure that, upon his return, you will admire him as I do." – _Ursa speaking to Hallas_

* * *

Ursa looked up to the rider of the drake. He released the reigns and elegantly slipped off, landing perfectly on his feet. Talion brushed aside his disheveled hair so that he could see her more clearly. In that moment, his wife ran to him. Ursa embraced him dearly, wrapping her hands about his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. With her cheeks aflame, she held him there, her arms holding him every tightly.

As they pulled away, Ursa said, "Lord Talion… Welcome home."

Talion took one of her hands and pressed it against her cheek. Ursa leaned her head against his palm, enjoying the feeling of his rough fingers against her flesh. Her husband shut his eyes as he held her there. From behind, Hallas was staring in embarrassment and shock.

The ranger said, "How I've missed you. Not a day went by when I didn't think of you."

She answered, "It is not enough to merely think of you."

She kissed him again and pressed her body against him. He felt Ursa moaning as she began to nibble on his neck and kiss him lustfully.

Talion gently pushed her back and said, "U-Ursa… there is a time and a place. Your guards are watching intently."

"I don't care anymore" she said, "I have you here."

Talion blushed in embarrassment as his wife's vigor exceeded his own. Which was not to say, he was not at his happiest. Right now, he was tempted to forget all of his war plans and ambitions. He wanted to think only of Ursa and Inga. However, he had much to explain about his dealings Barad-dûr.

He said, "I made you wait. Forgive me. Whatever I can do to make this up to you, you need only ask."

Ursa's eyes began cross and she said, "You should not have reminded me of your fault. You promised to be away four months at most. Instead, I have waited more than five. All the while, fearing that you were imprisoned in Barad-dûr."

"I can explain, but first… let me show you the ring."

He held ring of light, that shimmered a brilliant silver and blue. It hummed for Ursa and showed its inscriptions to its witnesses.

"Beautiful," said the Wraith, "Is it not?"

Ursa beamed at him and said, "How I've missed you, Lord Celebrimbor!"

"And I, you."

Talion said, "A ring forged in the fires of Mordor. This will be our bane and our greatest weapon in this war."

With reverence her voice, she spoke, "A ring to challenge the Dark Lord himself."

Talion then said, "We had crafted it when an Ungol spider came to us, beckoning us to meet their queen… one called Shelob."

Ursa said, "An Ungol you say? A dark omen."

"Perhaps," said Talion, "She proved an ally… of sorts… and told us a terrible truth. Minas Ithil was under siege by the enemy. That is why I could not return. I could not abandon it."

Ursa said, "I understand now. I thought if you were delayed, the reason would need to be great. Even so, I did not think Sauron's army yet possessed the strength to challenge Gondor."

"Sixty legions he sent," said the Wraith, "Led by the Witch King himself to take the city and seize the Palantir."

Talion said, "I could not save it. I failed. Hundreds of innocent men, women, and children lay dead there as they breached the walls. Thousands more are condemned to a life of chains and suffering. I am sorry, Ursa. My quest was in vain. I kept you waiting with so little winnings in return."

"You fulfilled your duty to them. You have brought me the ring and yourself," she said, "Such gifts please me."

Ursa continued, "Well, to be fair, I cannot forgive you so easily for your delay. Yet I hope you will forgive yourself. You were impossibly outnumbered."

The Wraith said, "Though we failed to obtain the Palantir, many did escape."

Talion said, "There are allies that would help us. Eltariel, an Elf maiden serving the Lady of Lothlórien, Shelob, the queen of all spiders, and Idril, the daughter of Minas Ithil's general."

Ursa crossed her arms and said, "My dear, you attract the strangest of women."

"That is merely coincidence," said the ranger uneasily as he understood his situation.

He hastily added, "In any case, I was worried all the while. I was sure Sauron would strike in my absence. Yet I see Núrn stands strong. Indeed, you have erected a great wall here in Morn."

Ursa said, "I will speak of our victory later. Let us go inside. Your daughter has grown much since your departure."

"Has she?" asked Talion, his face radiating as he spoke.

"Oh my," said Ursa blushing as she turned around. Hallas stood there watching them. He seemed flustered as he was forced to fulfill his duties and watch her.

Ursa spoke, "I forgot to introduce my bodyguard. This is Hallas, son of Faramir."

Talion said, "A fine name. A name of Gondor."

Hallas bowed and said, "King Talion… it is an honor. The Queen has spoken fondly of you."

Talion asked, "A king? I lead armies, not courts and lawmaking. I leave that to my wife."

Ursa said, "Hallas is apprentice to a ranger of the Black Gate, a man named Orison. He is my father."

"Your father? What else has happened since I was away? That's…. was it a happy meeting?"

"It was," said Ursa.

Talion smiled as he looked up at the mighty fortress of Morn. Although his heart was heavy with the loss of Minas Ithil, seeing Núrn stand proud gave him hope. Seeing Ursa smiling just as she had when he left brought comfort to the transgressions which plagued his mind always.

* * *

About them, servants and soldiers gawked and murmured as Ursa and Talion waltzed through the castle. Ursa's hands were wrapped around Talion's arms as they moved forward. Talion felt his ears heating up as he heard a group of maidens giggling at him, then felt a kindle of anger as saw Orcs and humans did little to hide their sneers. Right now, Ursa was entirely unaware, or rather she no longer cared.

 _Ursa, I thought you would be angrier with me. Now I only feel all the more guilty. I will have to make it up somehow._

"Welcome back Talion," said Lithariel warmly as she appeared on his left.

Talion said, "It is good to see you again, Lithariel. Is Queen Marwen well?"

"She is. She rules as gloriously as always. I am sure she will wish to throw a feast in your honor."

"I look forward to seeing her garden again," said Talion, "though it will have to wait. My business is first here to my house."

Lithariel said, "As it should be. Now, I take my leave."

Ursa asked, "You will visit again won't you? You promised."

Lithariel leaned into Ursa's ear and said, "Of course. Albeit, tonight I will let you keep him all to yourself."

Ursa answered, "I'm grateful."

* * *

Inside Ursa's chambers, they found their daughter atop a small bed, rolling on it. She was still too weak to pull herself about and crawl, but she had taken well to rolling. She let out giggles and coos as she moved. Her golden-brown eyes darted bout as she moved and took in her world. Tufts of dark black hair grew on the top of her head, reaching far past her ears. About her, Inga's nurse had placed several toys such as a leather toy dog she liked to chew on and a stick with great bells tied to it.

Talion gazed silently down at Inga. She had changed much since he last saw her, but he was grateful he could still see her like this. He slowly put a finger forward. The baby's tiny fingers clasped to it, and she began to play with it like a toy. Her giggling made his heart flutter with joy. His countenance swiftly changed before Ursa's eyes. She watched as Talion gulped and tried desperately to hold back tears.

She said, "Talion, won't you hold your daughter?"

The ranger reached down with both hands and placed them under Inga. He slowly lifted her up with a hand beneath her back and another on her legs. He then cradled her snugly between his arms, careful to keep her cheeks from the cold of his gauntlets.

Ursa said, "She still drinks of my milk and I feed her only soft fruit and porridge. The nurse watches her whenever I am away. Yes, it is thanks to her."

Talion said, "You have been a good mother, Ursa. A Queen cannot be expected to manage her offspring always."

Ursa blinked and looked away. She hadn't expected him to catch onto her guilt so quickly. Talion was growing more adept at reading her emotions.

"Our child," said Talion, "Is growing up well and that is thanks to you."

"You truly think so?" she asked.

"Yes," said Talion, "Looking at her, I think she will be a handful. So young and taking to rolling about and chewing up her toys."

Ursa said, "A daughter with her father's spirit. She will follow you on your hunts I am sure."

Talion said, "Will she? I have never raised a girl before. So, she will be a bit boyish?"

Ursa said, "When she can use her arms well, we should fashion her a bow."

"Ursa, how far are you envisioning? I said she was a handful, but you are thinking of all the details. Well, that may be why you rule Núrn so well."

Ursa said, "So you say, but it seems as if my mind is better suited for strategies than the finesses of life. As such, I have memorized a day of special importance."

"The anniversary…" said Talion, "I am sorry."

"As you should be," said Ursa, "With you gone, there was no celebration. Only memory. Ah… forgive me. I meant to speak not of that, but of your birthday!"

"Birthday?"

"Three days ago, you turned thirty-five."

"I did?"

"Indeed."

"I have not been one to remember birthdays, least of all my own. Only nobles remember such frivolous things."

"You are nobility now, Talion," said Ursa, "And so, tomorrow I will hold a banquet for you. As for the gift, I was hoping you would accept it today."

She held out the same bundle of cloth she had clung to for the last few days. Talion blinked as he wondered at its contents. He took hold of it and unlatched the thread that was knotted to it. The cloth now rolled out. He saw a white, dirty banner with the symbol of a black tree upon it. His expression froze as he gazed at it. In his mind, he saw it flying proudly in his hometown and on the wall his company protected. He was a young ranger warming his hands by the fire, surrounding by boisterous comrades. None realized the fear in his heart and the honor he felt serving there.

"The Flag of Gondor. The White Tree."

Ursa said, "My father kept it all these years. I asked it of him and he gave it without question. It is yours to do as you wish, but I think it would fly proudly here in Fort Morn. Or… or keep it safe from the embers of war. Whatever suites you. D-do you like it?"

"I do. I would fly the banner. Let Mordor know that Gondor has not abandoned its lands" said Talion.

She said, "I have other gifts, but I will save them for the ceremony."

"You're spoiling me, Ursa. I'm a man of simple tastes."

She said, "You are more than just a ranger, my love. I know nobility has disagreed with such sentiment, but I truly believe it to be so."

He answered, "I lack the qualities of nobility. I always have."

"Talion…"

Her tone sounded less friendly now.

She put her hands to her hips and spoke, "You are the one who always tells me to try to accept compliments. Hypocrite."

His eyes widened with surprise at her harsh words.

Ursa's eyes became shaky and she began to frown.

"I… I did not mean to sound so rude. In any case, I believe it suits you."

Talion said, "Um… I will go and bathe now. Afterwards, let us meet in your chambers."

Ursa felt her entire body heat up like a kettle as he requested such a thing.

She said, "Why don't I wash your back, today? I'd rather our handmaidens not be in there with you."

Talion had intended to simply wash himself as he always did, but he would not deny Ursa any longer.

* * *

 **WARNING: This part of the story is the juicy lemon. If you are not interested in such things, then skip to the next chapter.**

Talion slipped off his belt. He looked ahead to the washing room. A, large wooden tub was set up, with white linen atop of it and drapes to match. Freshly heated by Ursa's fire, he could see the water steaming. Rose petals and perfumes were poured out over the water. The ranger gulped as he anticipated washing the grime from his face and enjoying the water's heated touch. Even more so, that of his wife.

Behind him, Ursa stood with a simple robe over her form. Her fingers slipped around his armor as she unlatched it. Talion's fingers aided her as it was quite heavy. With the chest piece removed, she moved to the front of him and slid off his chainmail. It was even heavier than the armor but much of the weight was due to her lack of muscle. Talion easily slipped it off over his head. Ursa smiled as she unbuttoned his tunic. From behind, she gazed at his smooth back, save for a scar running down the middle. She let her fingers stroke across his shoulder blades and then run down the indentation of his spine. Talion let out a soft groan as he felt goosebumps run down his flesh. He felt her claw now moving lower and her other hand wrap around his thigh. She pressed herself up against his back and rested her face there. Her hands leaned against his back muscles as she took in the fire of his body, heat that warmed her frozen bones.

Talion allowed her to enjoy his presence a little longer.

At last, Ursa said, "Turn around for me."

As Talion stood in the bath, he watched as Ursa pulled out a washcloth and moved to behind him. She took up a bucket and spilled it atop of his head. Her hands now ran through it with her claws digging gently into his scalp. Talion followed her request, letting her begin to wash her his face and neck. Ursa said nothing as she rubbed the cloth against him, only stopping to ring it dry and dip into the tub. The air was quiet between them. Nothing needed to be said. Ursa's washcloth scrubbed clean his throat, removing the dirt from his journey. She rinsed it and returned to his face. She now pressed it against his forehead, wiping it clean.

"There's the face I know," said Ursa with a smile.

The ranger's fingers now ran up her stomach until he traced it up to her collarbone. He saw the scar across her shoulder where his arrow had pierced her. He did not trace it lest Ursa be reminded. Suddenly, his wife's hand was atop his and she pressed his hand to her scar.

She said, "It is as I said. I hold no ill memory."

Talion said, "Do you still have nightmares?"

"Not of you," said Ursa.

Another ten minutes passed by in silence. Ursa had cleaned her husband from head to toe. She poured a bucket of warm water down his chest now, and watched as the dirt poured away into the tub. She felt some sense of satisfaction knowing she had done well on this lover's task. Suddenly, the ranger's hands became mischievous.

She winced and let out a small moan his rough hands were upon her bosom.

Talion asked, "Do they hurt?"

"Y-yes. They are swollen and the baby does not drink enough. I-a-aah…"

She stood still even as her body was being stimulated by rushes of pleasure and pain. His hands were playing with her now, wrapping fully around her chest. She felt pressure as he tried to squeeze it out. Meanwhile, her lower regions began to awaken.

Ursa said, "Talion… you mustn't… it isn't decent to…mmmm."

Talion said, "It is as I said… I am not some nobleman. I find no shame in this."

Ursa continued to breath heavily as she felt his lips sucking on her nipples. He kissed and nibbled on them. He held them up with his palms as he let his tongue wash them. His rough tongue was too much for her. Now she felt something happening, but it felt different than when she was nursing Idril. This was exciting, a pleasure that heated her body up slowly. Several drops of her milk now spilled out. Talion drank it up instantly, a gesture that still left Ursa embarrassed. Her fingers now slipped to his nether regions and began to work there. She felt his manhood grow and heat up in her skillful grasp. She moved lower and touched the soft orbs below it. Meanwhile, her milk was flowing freely. The ranger now took one nipple into his mouth and began to drink. She felt relief and pleasure as he emptied her breasts out. The discomfort that had blocked them had passed. Now she was at the brink of ecstasy. Talion seemed to notice and so he swooped down low. His tongue flickered over the nub of her womanhood, driving Ursa mad. Her hands wrapped into his thick hair as she pressed him against her legs. Her milk continued to drip out as he tasted her. At last, she felt herself burst again, the ranger continued to drink her wine and then sent his tongue teasing her lower lips. Ursa collapsed onto the ground.

Talion said, "I'm glad I can still drive you mad."

Ursa said, "Such spirit… I can't live without this. Your touch is intoxicating."

The Warchief now said, "You must be tired. You should enjoy the water. Although… I could always heat it up again."

She reached out with a hand and created a small flame the size of a candle light.

Talion followed her suggestion and slipped down into the boiling water. He let out a sigh of satisfaction as the heat comforted him. Without thought, he shut his weary eyes and leaned back. The ranger stretched his arms out onto the side of the tub as he arched his back and settled in. Simply being in the water was refreshing after the endless warfare and journeying into Mordor. He then scooped some water and washed it over his face. He took another handful and ran it through his hair, combing it behind him. Ursa thought it looked quite fetching in such a style. She thought his beard could do with a trim as it was back when they were wed.

Her ranger's eyes now opened to see the figure of his wife standing there in the nude, a towel barely covering her torso. Her wide hips and ample breasts protruded out from the sides of the cloth. The ranger felt his body beginning to long for her. His eyes became fixed upon her, seeming to call her in. Ursa gulped as she felt her face begin to tingle. She carefully pulled herself up the rim of the tub and inside. The tub was large enough for them both to move freely about, and the water was not too high. She climbed up onto his waist so that she was ogling up at his chest. He seemed more muscular than ever. Ursa felt his erect manhood poking up against her lower entrance as she straddled him. Her arms wrapped around him now as he pulled her closer. His arm muscles rippled and bulged as he took her into his grasp. His arms could snap her in two, but it was a place where she felt safest. Ursa's eyes fell into ecstasy as she kissed him fully on the lips. Her tongue ran out and slid into his mouth, tasting his flavor. She felt Talion lift up her hips so that his manhood was pressed between her rump. Ursa began to move up and down, sliding her chest up against his and as her lower half stroked his manhood. She let out a moan as she imagined what was about to come.

Talion said, "How is your body? Has it healed enough?"

Ursa said, "Why don't you find out?"

The Queen's fingers lustfully took hold of his shaft and she took him in all at once. The ranger was surprised by it, having intended to tease her until she was ready. Instead, Ursa began to move her hips energetically. Talion grit his teeth and began to let out ragged breaths. It was too much after so long. The hot water was splashing and bubbling as she moved up and down atop of him, sending it spilling out onto the floor.

Ursa said, "I accept all of your passion… all of your lust."

Her arms were again around him as they shared a kiss. Steam stuck to their flesh as they both panted for air. Her ranger's arms were now holding onto her hips, helping pull her into each thrust. Talion's shoulder muscles clenched as the pleasure drew near, as she swallowed him so readily. Ursa's hands squeezed him across the top of his arms, feeling the hard muscles of his heave to and fro as he made love to her. As his arms squeezed against her, she felt a vein on his arm stir. From below, the water slowed down their passion, embracing them in a sort of blanket. The ranger's back was battered as she pushed him against the wooden side of the tub. However, he could not feel any of the pain. He pulled her head up against his and growled into her ear. Ursa's mind went wild form the gesture. Talion felt her tighten around him. The Gravewalker let out a ragged groan as he lost himself in the pleasure. Ursa bore her fangs and tongue as she felt him fill her up. Ursa panted and fell forward atop of him. She accidentally gulped in water and began to cough. Talion pulled her up a bit so that she was laying atop his stomach. They rested there for several moments.

The Warchief now stood up in the tub and walked out. Talion groaned in pain as he felt his back beginning to ache from hitting the edge of the tub. It was an exciting experience, but not one he would do again with such an uncomfortable wall to lay against.

Ursa, "Oh… I will have to clean you again. Let us do so and then take our dealings to the bed."

Talion blinked and said, "I… you still have strength? I thought I would have you satiated today."

Ursa said, "My countenance may be weak, but my desires are not so easily quenched, my love."

He said, "I… I think I will need to rest after I finish washing."

"Nonsense," she said with a haunting tone, "we've only begun. I realize you are tired, but it is not nearly night yet my love. Resting comes later."

Talion recoiled slightly, almost stumbling back into the bath water. A frightful thought entered his mind.

 _What beast have I awakened? She's grown far too strong!_

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Without a doubt, the most intense love scene I've written. I hope it wasn't too much.

For those wondering, I am aware that the flag Ursa gave Talion showed a black tree rather than a white one. In The Two Towers film, the flag of Gondor is shown as white with a black tree emblem representing the tree of Gondor.

As always, thank you for reading! Reviews, positive or negative, mean so much to me so please leave one.


	13. The Conquest for Carnán and the Chopper

**Chapter Thirteen: The Conquest for Carnán and the Chopper**

"The island has many names. Cut off from the rest of Mordor, its existence is like no other. Lush forests with trees found nowhere else in Middle Earth. There is life here that thrives on the island alone. It is said to be ruled by an ancient guardian of the earth. A whisper of life that guides all things. And so, those that know better called it by the name above all names: we call it the Island of Carnán." – _Record of the Corsairs_

* * *

The ranger found himself standing in a pasture of green that seemed to span to the horizon. Mountains laced in fog and clouds hung in the background. The sky seemed bluer than any he had imagined. The air was cool, healing his skin with its gentle breezes. Above, a radiant sun, white as snow, gazed down on him. The ranger felt a great bane lifted from his shoulders. And so, he slipped off pieces of his armor as he walked forward. Without hesitation, he discarded his sword, dagger, and gear. Ahead, a light was calling him. It seemed familiar somehow, as if it were beckoning him home. As he walked, the bags under his eye disappeared, as did the scars on his body. The years lost to war washed away, leaving the anger and hatred behind in the dust. The suffering and despair faded. All that remained was the man himself as he shed off the ranger.

"At last," he said, "I can rest here in the light. My journey is over."

The ranger awoke from his slumber, laying side by side with his wife. His body was tired and broken from his quest to Mordor. What energy he had left, had been drained by Ursa the night before. As he awoke, he could not remember the dream, only a sense of loss. Here beside her, he felt at ease. Only, he knew that he could not stay here. The call of war would return. War would claim his life, immortal or not. Dark questions now entered his mind. As one whom could not die, was he forbidden from aging beside Ursa and Inga? Would he live to see Ursa fall under the spell of Sauron, to slip into darkness and corruption? To see all he had worked to save undone and turned ash? He could not remember his dream, but he knew it was of a place far from here. Inside, he felt the same call that beckoned him every time he died.

"My love," he heard Ursa whisper as she awoke, "You've slept until midday. I already went to my duties and have since returned to find you still asleep. I did not mean to fall to dream but… you looked so peaceful. Was it a good dream?"

Talion gulped and said, "I don't know."

His fingers wrapped around the ring on his finger. Not the piece of silver that rested beside it. He looked to the ring that signified his oath. It seemed two rings now anchored him to the world.

* * *

As the ranger stepped out of his chambers, he saw a somewhat older man standing in front of his door.

Talion said, "Exactly who might you be? These are private chambers."

The other man seemed dumbfounded. He continued to gaze at Talion with the bewildered look on his face. Talion crossed his arms, becoming more and more suspicious of the man by the second.

At last, he said, "I am Orison… Ursa's father."

The ranger's face froze in a torrent of emotion, though the greatest of these was regret.

He said, "Ah… I beg your forgiveness. I am Talion, Ursa's husband. I had hoped to meet you… in circumstances better than these."

Orison said, "As did I. Nonetheless, you were locked in her chamber so long I thought I should fetch you myself."

"The ride was long from Minas Ithil. I sleep like a stone," said Talion, not wishing to explain the true reason he was so drained.

"Well," said Orison, "It is hard to be a disapproving father when her husband rides in on a tamed drake with a ring of power. That has to count for something! Ha ha! In any case, it seems Ursa is madly in love with you. She speaks highly of you to all."

Talion said, "I cannot accept such praise. She merely speaks of the good. I would be lost without her."

Orison said, "I was hoping to speak with you. Is Ursa to be joining us?'

Talion said, "She is bathing Inga. My turn to wash her is tomorrow."

"Then I will say my piece," said Orison, "I am glad you are here since you can protect her. Aye, Hallas and Lady Lithariel do as well. It is a relief to know you are here. My daughter is surrounded by so many distrustful figures. My mind cannot be at ease seeing her surrounded by so many Orc folk."

Talion said, "You think they will betray her?"

"It is in their nature. You are a ranger. You know of their evil ways. A nasty lot, all of them."

"This is true," said Talion, "But Ursa is half-Orc. For her, they are kin and I must respect that. Well, have no worry. Her bodyguards and those close to her have been branded. It is the same power of the ring I used on my drake to tame his mighty wings. As such, the goblins cannot even think of betraying her."

Orison said, "I now see what she told me was no fib."

"These powers are very real," said the ranger, "Although, I would ask you not spread news of it. It would make Orcs less willing to submit to the branding if they knew better."

"I see… you are a sharp one, lad. Protect her. Protect my little one with every ounce of power you can muster from that ring. Can you promise me that?"

Talion said, "Sir, we ride to war. All is uncertain. Even so, I promise you I will do all within my power to protect your daughter."

Orison bowed and said, "I'm relieved to see such resolve in your eyes. Now, I will be off to the tavern."

"Very well," said the ranger, "And thank you for the flag of Gondor. I could ask for no finer gift."

Orison said, "It is a jewel finer than any in Mordor. To others, it may seem but a tattered rag. But to a ranger, the banner of the white tree means everything. It is a promise of hope. It gives us the strength to carry on, to press back against the darkness."

He was looking in a far-off place. As Talion gazed into his eyes, he saw the white city. The streets filled with people. The silver armor of the city guard. The banners blowing proudly in the wind of the mountain. Orison's eyes were no longer at Talion. A single tear fell down the old ranger's cheek.

He whispered, "I should have hung it proudly long ago."

As Orison walked aimlessly down the corridor, Talion brushed off old thoughts of home. He did not miss Minas Tirith as Orison did. Even so, he felt the same call. The same horn blowing. However, he would not answer the call home. It could not compare to the life before him. As he opened the bedroom door, he saw Ursa holding the baby, both now wrapped in a towel.

Ursa said, "She coughed up her breakfast. I had to wash her twice, not that she minded. Inga seems to love thrashing about in the water."

Talion said, "You need to keep down your food, Inga. You don't want to stay that small forever, now do you?"

His wife said, "I wish she would."

Talion held Inga in his arms as they walked out into the throne room. His daughter continued to spittle out saliva and giggle as she clung to a small wooden toy.

Ursa said, "She is easily amused… like her father."

Talion said, "That doesn't sound like me at all."

"I remember the way you would tease me, the way you still do."

He said, "That is because you are so fun to tease. Your pout and throw fits like a newborn."

Ursa answered, "I do not. I-I cannot look at you. Making up stories for your amusement."

As Ursa turned away from him dramatically, Talion could not help but laugh.

He let out "There… See? Your lips have tightened up and your eyebrows have furrowed like a child told they can't go out and play."

Ursa's face started to twist in confusion and irritation. However, they transformed into amusement and she let out a light laugh.

She said, "You think that ring will protect you?"

"Celebrimbor has infused it with great magic. I think I twill."

"I was referring to your wedding ring."

"Ah… you wouldn't lay a finger on my handsome face."

Ursa said, "It is true. Why must you be so handsome?"

The Wraith suddenly said, "Your honeymoon has passed, has it not?"

He let out a sigh and walked off ahead.

Ursa and Talion both awkwardly stared at each other, needing not to say what they were thinking. Then grins covered their faces while Inga let out another giggle herself.

Talion asked, "Would you like to hold the child, Celebrimbor?"

The Wraith said nothing.

Ursa said, "Talion, do not tease him so. You must cease this dark humor of yours. If you do not behave Talion, I will not let you sleep tonight."

"I beg of you, have mercy, my Queen… I'm still exhausted from your performance last night."

Ursa said, "That was merely preparation for tonight."

Talion's voice sounded genuinely concerned as he asked, "What? Ursa… What do you mean by that?

She walked up ahead now with a proud smirk on her face.

"Ursa? Ursa!"

* * *

The next two weeks were bliss for Ursa and Talion. An entire day was spent for Talion's birthday. The Queen Marwen and her daughter both visited. Ursa showered Talion in gifts of new armor, robes, and jewels. They then danced until Ursa sprained her ankle. The next morning, they decided to send the nurse away for a time and cared for Inga together. There were nights were Talion and Ursa did not sleep as Inga begged for attention. One night, they could bear it no more and called for the maid again. On the nights he shared alone with Ursa, Talion was not allowed to sleep, but this time due to Ursa's appetite. Even so, he did not wish for that time of peace to go away. Ursa spoke little of strategy and left the wall's defenses alone for the time being. However, their peace was fleeting. They knew they could delay the war effort no longer. Not with the island of Carnán and the fortress of Thaurband unconquered.

* * *

In her war room, Ursa stood with her husband and tacticians about her. Her eye gazed down at the map, to the sea of Núrnen painted atop of it. Sitting to the right side of the great lake was an island of considerable size. In all her time in Núrn, she had never come into contact with the Orcs there. All she knew was that they traded food and Caragor with Thaurband. She had prepared a coastal defense to ward off such forces during the Nazgul's invasion, but nothing came of it. The island remained silent as always.

Ursa said, "I have not seen many ships leaving the island. I believe something has happened. It may be that the Island of Carnán is ours for the taking."

Her head strategist said, "Send the word and we will prepare the ships. A thousand Uruk will storm it and take the jungle's fortress."

The Warchief said, "We must be cautious. There are tales of a horror that dwells there. Orc and man alike have tried to settle it for centuries. All have failed."

Talion said, "This is true. Marwen once spoke of the tribesmen sailing there. She said the island was cursed. Men would get lost in the jungles and never return."

Ursa said, "Even so, the Orc have managed to build a small keep there. It has stood there for the last six years. What warchiefs rule the island?"

The Warchief Zaxuleg answered, "There are three, but… they all serve the Overlord."

"Overlord?" asked Talion.

"Yes, a great Orc or Olog that the Warchief serve."

Ursa said, "Impossible. Sauron decreed long ago that no Warchief may stand above another."

"New orders from Mordor, I wager," said Zaxuleg, "Not by trial through combat. No. I heard the Nazgul appoint them."

Ursa said, "Hmm… has the Warchief of Thaurband been chosen to be an overlord as well, I wonder? My spies did not mention. They stated only he was no Orc, but an Olog-Hai."

Talion said, "That makes sense. I wondered what Uruk could be twice the size of Belos Ironguard."

Her strategist interrupted, "Many call you Queen of this land, but you still refer to yourself as Warchief… even though the chieftains all serve you. It would be wise to take the title of Overlord for yourself."

"Overlord," repeated Ursa, "I liked my title very much. Hmmm… I suppose I should crown myself Overlord if it will be better recognized by Uruk."

Talion said, "The Witch of Núrn, Warchief, Ursa the Cunning, the Witch Queen, the Queen of Núrn, and now Overlord. Impressive."

Ursa said, "I wish I knew who was making up these titles."

Talion said, "If you seek my opinion, I think 'Overlord' would be best."

Celebrimbor said, "I agree. Such a rank will be useful. If we conquer other territories, an overlord could better control the Orc armies there. No more squabbling between Warchiefs. It seems Sauron is organizing them properly now. It is no wonder the Witch King mustered them so easily."

Ursa said, "Now to the matter of Carnán. I will leave Fort Morn in the care of you, Zaxuleg. I will take Talion and one of the other Warchiefs with me to the island. We will need ten ships to carry our legion. That will conclude the matters of war. Talion? Celebrimbor? What plans do you have for the island of Carnán?"

The Wraith responded, "We will scout ahead to see what lurks on Carnán and to see the state of their ranks. A new overlord for the island may need to be elected as well."

Ursa said, "It is risky to travel alone. I hoped to establish a foothold on the edge of the island so that our scouts could determine the danger. An army would protect us, and we could depart swiftly if need be."

The Wraith said, "We will join you in the expedition. However, we are still the best suited to scouting the island. I sense a Haedir, one of the towers of the wraith world, lies in Carnán. We cannot die and so-"

Ursa's female strategist asked, "My Queen, who 'er you speaking to?"

"The Wraith. It'd be easier if we could see 'em too," said Zaxuleg.

Ursa titled her head in confusion. Talion had told her the Wraith could not be seen by the uninitiated nor comprehended by the branded Uruk. She looked to Talion who seemed equally surprised.

The Wraith said, "They are becoming more aware. The power over them has not weakened, I am certain. It would seem the ring has indeed refined it. They are more useful if they understand the nature of their masters, it would seem."

Talion asked, "Are you sure this is not your doing?"

"They are easier to control when they are ignorant. This is not by choice."

Ursa intervened, "We must consider this when continuing our efforts."

She looked to the branded Orcs by her side and went silent.

Talion said, "Tell me Orc, does it bother you that you have been branded by the Bright Lord?"

The she-Orc tactician answered, "A master is a master. It matters not to me."

Celebrimbor spoke, "See? There is nothing to fear."

Ursa thought to herself, "It should bother them."

The new Overlord sighed and said aloud, "Let us return to the matter of this island. Let us finish devising our strategy and then.. and then we sail."

* * *

On the Island of Carnán, the ranger wrestled through the thick jungles and overgrowth. The thick scent of plants and soil permeated through his nostrils. Even so, this was only a small forest on the outer rim. A great forest lay in the heart of the island. Talion tracked a patrol of goblins up ahead as they traversed back to their camp. From what he had learned so far, a fortress about the size of Morn lay not far from there. If they could capture it, it could make a fine base to protect Ursa and Inga. A final defense if Sauron took Núrn.

The Gravewalker now approached the camp where the Orc patrols were returning to. He saw cages of wild Caragor, and campfires where they were cooking one of the large boar that roamed the island. The ranger kept close to the tree line and then to the green thickets up ahead. The grass, like the trees, was strangely tall. Indeed, everything on the island seemed to grow to an unnatural size. The trees were far larger than any he had seen in the forests of Gondor or even outer Núrn. The animals like the boar and Caragor were almost double their normal size. He wondered at the source of this change. Talion now hid behind a row of ale barrels. He listened intently to the sound of the Uruk speaking. Some were talking of the strange disappearances on the island, others of an arena where their favored champion was soon to duel. It was during the latter conversation, Talion heard something of interest.

"Yeah, Suga is strong and all… but it doesn't mean nothing with Bruz the Chopper."

"Olog-Hai are always winning cause they're so big. Won't matter with Suga. He's too fast. He'll cut at his flanks while his javelin-tossin' boys lob at him from behind."

"That ain't fair and you know it."

"It ain't fair to duel a bloody troll!"

"In any case," said the other Orc, "It don't mean anything. Bruz has never lost a battle. He's the strongest captain on this island. Soon he'll kill a Warchief and take his place, mark my words. There's nothing he can't cut or smash. Suga is no exception, mate. The arena is going to be drenched in his black blood."

"Hmm… is he really that strong?"

"He is. I saw him take an armored Uruk and pluck him right off his wolf. Crushed him to death in his own armor and then he tossed the beast like a rat. If you don't believe me, you will after today."

The ranger pried his ears from the conversation now.

The Wraith said, "Let us visit this champion. It would be useful to have an Olog-Hai to call upon."

* * *

"Bruz! Bruz! Bruz!"

"Suga! Suga! Suga!"

The champions' followers cheered on in the stands of the arena. They looked down at the blood-soaked pit where the warriors were about to fight to the death. From a tree above, Talion remained perched and spied on the denizens below. If this troll was as strong as his reputation claimed, he would prove it here. If not, Talion would take the other captain as his own. Below, the arena's master was announcing the fight in black speech.

"What a foul language," said the ranger.

He gazed down at the Olog. Bruz was considerably tall, even a bit more than the war troll he had fought in Minas Ithil. The Olog had grey-cracked skin with a yellowish tint, not a terribly unusual look for a troll. What made him stand out was the three scars where a grog had slashed at his face. Another feature of note was his long brown hair tied up into a ponytail. The ranger did not know trolls could grow any sort of hair. As he pondered on this peculiarity, he heard the warriors begin their threats.

Shuga shouted out, "Bruz, I'm gonna murder you here… for all these Orcs to see. Come over here so I can carve your hide into leather for my shoes."

Bruz brushed his gloved hand against his chin as he walked forward. As he spoke, his large mace bounced about.

He said, "They said you were an optimist. Know what that is mate? It's about sizing up a situation that's bloody impossible and saying 'Yeah, alright. I'll have a go!' I'm exactly the same way."

As he spoke, the ranger could not tell if this Bruz was seething with hatred or if he was amused by his opponent. Either way, Bruz was now baring his black fangs at his minuscule opponent. The other Orc dashed forward now with two short axes in hand. He spun to the side of Bruz and began to slash at his legs. Meanwhile, the javelin throwers Shuga had summoned were tossing short spears at him. As the first spear reached him, he grabbed it with his gloved hand and tossed it back. The poor lancer shrieked as he was nailed to the arena wall. Bruz then charged forward again. He swung his club and instantly killed Suga's followers. Behind him, their master was fuming.

"I'm over here you big oaf!" he shouted.

Bruz answered, "You ain't tossing sticks at me, now are you? You gotta give me a reason to kill you first."

They both dashed at once. The smaller Orc slipped between his legs, a gesture Talion commended. However, Bruz was not fazed. He immediately kicked backwards. Shuga stumbled, but managed to dodge it. Yet the gesture gave Bruz time to turn properly around. The axe wielder roared out in fury and swung again at Bruz's legs. The Olog swiftly blocked each swing with his mace. He swung hard left and right so that the enemy's weapons were knocked to the side, leaving him open to a counter strike. Shuga could only gape in horror as the troll bashed down on his shoulder. The Olog than reached for his broken body and began to pull. Talion watched in disgust as Bruz pulled off the goblin's head with his colossal fingers.

"There you have it!" shouted the Olog-Hai, "Now pay up boys!"

"Oh, I like him," said the Wraith.

Talion did not expect the Wraith to approve of one so bloodthirsty, but he would admit Bruz was skilled. In fact, he was incredibly well spoken too. His accent and wording were crude, but he had to be intelligent to know what an optimist was. With their decision made, the ranger dashed upon the arena seats. The Orc stumbled to their feet.

"It's the Tark!" one shouted just before Talion's sword cut his throat.

Bruz looked up, baffled as he saw the ranger cutting through his comrades in the stands. He saw Talion kick an Orc down into the arena and avoid a downward cut of a goblin in his shadow. As the Orcs swarmed him, he showed no signs of struggle. He easily ran atop of a wooden box-shield one Uruk was holding. He came down from behind and fired what seemed to be a gust of wind. The Orc struggled as the Wraith's magic assaulted his mind. Talion quickly impaled his exposed stomach. Drawing out the sword from his gut, he sent the pommel hard into the gut of the Orc behind him. He ducked below the swing of an axe and parried another goblin's blade. As he deflected each blow, he sent a swift counterattack for their exposed flesh. Within a minute, at least eight Orcs were dead. Bruz let out a whistle to show he was impressed by the display.

The ranger dashed into the arena to face this champion. Talion did not wish to mortally wound him, so he would need to stun him long enough to dominate his mind. Fortunately, the Olog's hide was thick, so any slashes would be shallow.

"You sorted them out nicely didn't you?" said Bruz the Chopper, "Don't think it will be the same with me. Fancy moves don't matter when my mace comes down on your head."

The Olog-Hai launched forward like a bull. Talion was not confident he could slip under him, so he rolled to the side. As he did, he felt the air above burst. The Olog had sent his weapon swinging outward as he charged past. His reflexes were faster than the other trolls he had fought. Talion now doubled backwards and pulled out his glave.

The Elf lord said, "The glave is sharp, but it will not easily cut through him. We need ice."

Bruz laughed as he saw the ranger's arm moved, both hands empty. He did not see that the Elf lord sharing the glave with his host. He did not see the invisible weapon cut into his gut. Bruz did not roar as he felt the pain. His surprise at being impaled quickly was replaced with fury. He slammed his club down, knocking the glave from Talion's hand. The ranger then darted to the side of the mace and stabbed at the troll's stumpy leg. The Olog immediately kicked down. A loud thump rumbled through the arena as his foot stomped into the earth. However, Talion had avoid the blow with his limber movements. He now dashed up the Olog's leg and stabbed his dagger into his arm. With that, he launched up onto his back and tried to dominate the troll. Bruz thrashed his head about and roared as the Wraith tore at his mind. He charged backwards and slammed his back into the wall. Talion immediately leapt off and landed on his feet in front of the Olog-Hai.

Celebrimbor said, "His will is like iron. Cold and sturdy… we must hold him down. Use the ring."

Talion ducked below a sudden swipe that dug into the earth beside him, sending out an explosion of soil and dust. The ranger clasped his hands together and pulled back his sword. He swung it hard as if he meant to slice the Olog in half. Such motions called upon his magic. A trail of frost climbed up Bruz's leg, freezing his entire body in an instant. The troll struggled and shattered the ice. Talion sent it again, this time sending out thicker layers of ice onto his limbs.

The ranger said, "You are strong Olog, but no match for this ring."

Talion reached up with his hand, as if commanding his magic. As he did, the snow and ice overtook the Olog, wrapping itself around him. The ranger saw the Olog was already using his brutish strength to break free of his prison. If he did, he would need only to reach out to tear Talion's head from his shoulders. The ranger showed no fear. Instead, he closed his hand. As he did, the ice wrapped around his opponent even tighter. Now ice crystals and shards jetted out of the ground, reinforcing the hold he had on Bruz like pillars to a roof.

"What is this? Magic? Ah…. I thought you were a ranger, not some wizard."

Talion dashed onto his opponent and again wrapped his hand around The Chopper's mind. The Wraith took control and pulled at it. The ring clashed against the Olog's iron will and like a great wave, overtook it. His mind was flooded by the might of the Bright Lord and bent to his will. He was to serve, even until his doom.

"You serve the Bright Lord!" said the Elf to his prey.

Talion now broke apart the ice. Instantly, it turned to shards and a fine powder of snow, collapsing into a pile beneath the Olog-Hai. The ranger was impressed as the magic did not seem to drain him at all. In fact, it now seemed stronger than when he first used it in Minas Ithil. It seemed Celebrimbor's optimism about the ring slowly amplifying their power was not ill-conceived.

"What say you, Olog?" he asked.

The troll remained frozen with the same gnarling expression he had before being taken. The ranger waited to see if he would need to brand him yet again, even if that risked destroying his mind. A second later, the Olog's defensive demeanor vanished. His posture loosened, and he stretched his arms out to the side theatrically.

He said, "Ah, Bright Lord? Dark Lord? Same thing really. The end result is me ripping out spines! Which I like to do, so either way is a win for me."

Talion said, "You no longer follow your Warchief, nor your comrades. Rank means nothing. Your allegiance is to us alone."

"Fine by me," said Bruz, "From now on, I'll be your shadow. If anyone wants to kill you, they've gotta get through me."

Celebrimbor said, "A fine addition to our ranks. Let us turn the rest of his garrison."

"I will send him off then."

Bruz asked, "My lord, is there someone else here besides us?"

The ranger said, "It was easier when you Orc didn't care. Yes, there is a wraith residing within me. It is he who wielded the ice. It is he who is the Bright Lord, although you will serve us both as your master."

The Olog-Hai said, "That's unsettling. I suppose that's why they call you the Gravewalker. Immortality doesn't come easy, eh? You are without the doubt, the strangest master I've ever served."

Talion said, "Enough of your banter. Now Bruz…. What can you tell me about the Overlord here?"

"His name's Ugluk. He's a sturdy Uruk, good with the spear and quarterstaff. Now, here's where it gets interesting. After the Nazgul's arrival, they gave him some magic of his own. His staff's lined with fire when he gets serious. He's a fine Overlord, can't fault the masters for seeing that. He just doesn't have the charisma, you know? After becoming Overlord, he locked himself in the fort with two of his Warchiefs. Shame that. What's the point of getting empowered like that and just wasting away? He should be out conquering Núrn, killing that forest spirit, and ripping the head off that bloody Queen Marwen."

"She is an ally."

"Oh…" said Bruz more quietly, "Sorry about that. You can ally with who you like, don't mind me."

Talion said, "You spoke earlier of a forest spirit."

"Just a rumor. Ugluk sends parties into the deep of the forest, but few come back. Those that do have gone mad."

The Gravewalker replied, "I will go investigate the source of these disappearances. You await my command in your camp. I will return, likely with an army."

"Ooh… an army."

"Yes," said Talion, "I did not come alone. An overlord is waiting to send out her legion. Like me, you owe her your allegiance."

"Another overlord?" asked Bruz, "I heard the Nazgul hadn't chosen one for the mainland… well with the uprising and all. Well, there was talk of a witch hiding there."

Talion answered, "That witch is my wife: Ursa the Cunning. She is Overlord over Núrn, as well as the Queen of the Orc here in Mordor."

"Queen?"

"Ursa rules over the coast as well as much of Udûn. Soon much of Mordor will be hers."

"A she-Orc ruling… Ain't that a marvel? So then, I wager she is to replace Ugluk on the throne?"

The Wraith now appeared before Bruz and said, "She will not."

Bruz bowed and said, "I thought he was lying. So, you are the other Bright Lord?"

Celebrimbor spoke, "I have seen into your mind. You wish for the seat of Overlord, do you not?"

The Olog-hai rubbed the back of his head and said, "That's right. Well, if I do a good job, helping you conquer the island, I thought I'd throw my hat in."

The ranger said, "I will consider it. Likely, a new overlord is needed. Ursa will not have time to watch over the island."

"So, she's not going to be the overlord?" asked the Olog, clearly confused.

Talion said, "I already said that. Someone else is needed to oversee the army in Carnán."

"Glad to hear it," said Bruz, "Now, I've got one last question. If she is the queen, does that make you King Talion?"

Talion said, "I wouldn't call myself a king."

The Wraith said, "Ursa serves me."

Bruz turned to Celembrimbor and asked, "So you are the King? Then which one of you is married to her? Wait… don't tell me it's both of you? She must be one bloody good woman."

Talion angrily ashed out "She is married to me alone!"

"But I thought you were both the Bright Lord. You are both in one body after all."

The Wraith said, "I alone am the Bright Lord. The Queen serves below me. However, as Talion is my host, I share my power with both he and her."

"Alright, I get it. Just seems needlessly complicated."

Talion said, "It truly is. Now, get out of here. I'm done explaining myself to a troll."

"Alright, I'm going," said Bruz.

As he left, Talion could hear Bruz saying under his breath, "I've only served him five minutes and he's set off by a couple of honest questions. This Bright Lord's an angry one."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I know some people will be disappointed that Rat Bag is not the overlord. Ratbag is one of my favorite characters from the game, but Ursa's role in the first story meant he wasn't needed. In my story, he was never even "killed" by the Hammer, he went into hiding somewhere in Udûn. In fact, he's still there ruling as Warchief. Another reason is that I wanted to focus more on Bruz for this story.


	14. The Forest Spirit and the Overlord

**Chapter Fourteen: The Spirit of the Forest and the New Overlord**

The Forest of Carnán was lusher than any Talion had imagined. He saw great flowers of red that were large enough to sit upon. Twisted vines wrapped around the trees and hung down like ropes of ivy. At the forest floor, ferns and fresh moss blanketed the soil. The ranger and the wraith watched cautiously for any sign of life. It was not long before they found what they sought.

Up ahead, Talion spotted an Orc calling for help. He was pulling and tugging at a set of vines on the ground. The plants were strangling him, wrapping around his throat and arms as they dragged him into a pi beside the roots of a tree.

"Help me, Tark! We'll fight our way out of here."

The Wraith said to Talion, "For plants themselves to stir… I am reminded of what my people did in Fangorn Forest."

"So this is the work of Elves?" asked the ranger.

"I… do not know. It may be that this spirit is a powerful Ent of some sort. Either way, we must be cautious."

Talion took out his arrow and fired it into the head of the goblin. The dead Orc collapsed as the vines overflowed around him. In a few moments, all evidence of the killing would vanish. The ranger now understood why the fate of the previous war parties was wrapped in mystery.

Up ahead, the Gravewalker spotted a small hill at the foot of the great trees. Upon it were three armored Caragor. However, they were as still as corpses. Their mouths did not bare fangs and they showed no sign of pouncing upon him. The ranger watched them carefully as he passed. These beasts had already been tamed, but by whom?

* * *

At last, they reached the heart of the forest. Here the trees were even older, and their scent was of an age long past. Celebrimbor became uneasy, looking around at the trees for the source of the power. He was beginning to understand what they were dealing with. Both men now spied a great tree, or rather a group of trees now entwined after centuries of heedless growth. Within them, was a darkness, a hollow center at the base of the trees. From it, yellow eyes stirred.

"You trespass upon the foundations of life, Gravewalker"

A deep, but feminine voice. Her enunciation was course, as if the common speech of Middle Earth was troublesome to utter.

"What devilry lurks here?" asked Talion.

"Be silent!" said the Wraith, "This is an ancient spirit. Do not anger her."

For the Bright Lord to become humble, Talion wondered at her power. However, he was still skeptical of this being. It had shed the blood of many… Orc and man alike.

He said, "Show yourself!"

Out of the shadows, a mass of vines emerged. They clung to the trunk of the entangled trees. On the other side of the hollow, another group of vines now appeared. The ranger now realized they were shaped like enormous hands. Up from the darkness, creation itself emerged. A tall being made of vines and wood. Her arms and legs were like the cedars and oaks of great trees. Her chest was wrapped in old vines, thousands of them now inseparable. Her face was smooth like that of human flesh, save for the green of nature that painted it. Her eyes glowed with yellow and a light green, the color of the forest itself. Above her head, there was a crown of great branches, and it poured out into a long train of hair made of vines and timber. As she stood up, Talion realized she was as tall as a Graug. As she rose, he saw the plants around him begin to stir. New shoots arose, and small blossoms bloomed as if the sun itself were shining on them.

The Wraith immediately bowed down. However, Talion would not, not quite yet.

"Bow down, Talion. This is the Spirit of Carnán. I have sensed her since the moment we arrived. I did not know Carnán was her name. I have heard her called many names, none as noble. I did not know… I did not know that such a being still existed in Middle Earth."

"Trespassers," said Carnán, "You bring war with you. You bring a weapon of power to my forest. Doom is sure to follow."

The Wraith said, "We meant no disrespect. We have come to liberate your forests from the Orcs that cut it down."

"Liar!" she uttered, "You have brought… Orcs!"

Talion said, "We have our reasons. Those Orcs are under our spell."

"Bring your Overlord here. I am the power of Núrn. I would see the forces that now try to claim it."

The ranger said, "What you say, you can say to us alone. I will not risk her life by bringing her to one who has killed so many Uruk."

From the side of his eye, he spied a pack of Caragor. However, these did not seem to be made of scales and flesh. Instead, they seemed to be of twisted vines with the same yellow eyes as the others. In fact, a pack of these same wolves had completely surrounded him.

"Talion! Do not defy her. We cannot settle in the island if its keeper deems us an enemy. Obey her or we may die here."

The ranger sighed and said, "Then I will bring Ursa. But you must promise that no harm will come to the Overlord. These are peaceful negotiations. Nothing more."

Carnán answered, "I am not some treacherous cur. Bring your Overlord to me."

* * *

Ursa gulped as she marched towards the heart of the forest. Beside her was Flog and Hallas. She left the Warchiefs back at the ships for their sake. Inside, she wondered what being had summoned her and what being could manipulate the forest itself. Through the uneasiness, she felt a sense of excitement. She wondered at what this ancient force was. She knew much was at stake, but could not help but feel eager to get a glimpse on a being found nowhere else in Mordor.

At last, she reached Talion and Celebrimbor. They both looked back as she made her approach. She was wearing the same robes in which she had fought the Nazgul. However, she left the intimidating helm back at her beached flotilla. She knew negotiations needed to proceed swiftly. Likely, enemy goblin scouts long ago spotted her ships and informed their captains. Soon the island's overlord would amass an army.

Up ahead, Ursa spied the great spirit. Her eye took in her majesty. In that same moment of reverence, she forced herself to bow. If things turned for the worst, she did not know if she could burn her lush vines before being slain by them.

Ursa said, "It is an honor to be in your presence, oh great one. I am Ursa, Overlord of your beautiful coasts."

The spirit of Carnán said, "You bring fire and death with you, Orc."

Ursa turned to the side as the voice had not come from the giantess. Instead, it was spoken by one of the Caragor.

From another Caragor, she heard, "Great evil sets foot here. A ring of power that could turn the tides of war. A wraith who deems him a lord worthy of Mordor. A ranger who allies with the dead and with Orcs. And… a half-Orc?"

The spirit continued, "Within you, I see the blood of corruption flowing through your veins."

Ursa said, "I beg your pardon, but I do not think it is an evil."

Carnán answered, "Indeed, there is goodness within you. But below it… that is where true darkness lies. I see… I see… the enemy! You wield the fires of Mordor! In your eye, I see his cruel gaze!"

Ursa tried to control her racing heart as she said, "I did what was needed to save those I love. Though I have been changed, I believe I am still myself."

The island spoke, "A lust for power rests within your heart. I see great fear. And yet… there is love. Is that what holds back the corruption? No, it is slowly seeping in. How long can you fight the darkness? How long can any of you? You who do not fight in the light. You have embraced shadow and death."

"The light," said Talion, "was too weak. Darkness was needed to give the light a fighting chance."

The Bright Lord said, "What of the ring of power? Look upon it. It is a pure thing. Not tainted. Not corrupting."

"For now," she answered.

Talion said, "We did not come here to be mocked. We all know the risks. Yet when innocent lives were threatened, none came to their aid. Not Gondor… not Rohan. Not the Elves nor the Dwarves. Not you. I am tired of being questioned at every turn by those that will not dare fight Sauron! I will not hide away. I will not give into despair. There is good in this world and I fight for it. Now, will you turn us away? Will you be content to hide here as your lands are ravaged and the weak are crushed beneath the heal of Mordor?"

Carnán said, "Do not lecture me of good and evil. I have seen it before. I have seen good intentions turn to madness. You are no different. Hmmm…. But… I sense life here. You... You two are betrothed."

Ursa said, "Yes, there is life here. My child awaits my return. I dream of a future where she can know only peace. Though I am nothing before you, we are both mothers. To protect what we love, we would kill again and again. I believe what Talion has said is right."

The forest remained silent.

She continued, "You look to my fire and see evil. Alas, I wish this power had been a pure thing… like the ice my beloved wields. Nevertheless, is fire not what brings life? It clears the dead trees of the forest and pries open the nuts of trees. Do you resent the lightning that strikes true? Let me use this fire to burn away its maker. Let the old Mordor die and a realm of peace emerge."

Carnán said, "You speak truth. My duty is to Núrn, this island above all. I will entrust this place to you, for the time being. My forest will not destroy your army, and they may live here. I give only this warning: stay away from the heart of the forest. Stay away from here. No Orc may again enter but you half-breed."

The spirit uttered, "The trees on the borders… do with them as you will."

Ursa said, "We will lay seeds and saplings in their stead."

The forest answered, "To the Bright Lord and his captains, I offer my power. My forest will fight for you until the island is taken."

Talion said, "Thank you! Thank you! Forgive my rudeness."

She said, "Very well. Go now. Leave me to my slumber."

* * *

The Wraith plucked at the mind of the Orc chieftain. Bruz's Warchief was now loyal to the ranger.

"You serve the Bright Lord!" the ranger shouted, half of his face revealing the phantom within him. As he spoke, their voices intertwined and lost their distinctions.

With a mighty blow, he pierced the ground with his ghostly banner and knocked down the Orcs about him. Some fled. Most remained. They were frozen by a sense of fear and admiration as they witnessed this display of raw power. With this Gravewalker as their new master, the old Overlord was as good as dead. Although uneasy with betraying Sauron, they were excited to know they stood with the victors.

Bruz cackled seeing the ranger so easily defeat his old commander. He waltzed towards the back of the war camp to see if any Orc assassins still lurked. As he did, he heard a series of thumping sounds. It was undoubtedly a group of Olog.

"Come out!" ordered Bruz. He was clearly ready to murder all of them, despite their advantage in numbers.

"Bruz!"

The Cutter answered, "Is that you Gaz? Why are you hiding there? All of you should be at the ceremony!"

"Why?" asked Gaz, "The Warchief was defeated by a ranger! We don't serve no ranger."

"It doesn't' matter what he is. He won so the Warchief will serve."

Daz now said, "I saw his trick! The ranger grabbed the Chief by the head and turned him. One second he's saying he'll never surrender and the next he's bowing down. He's turning the Orcs into slaves! I knew it were true!"

Bruz brushed aside the accusation with a flick of his hand and said, "Don't worry about any of that. The Bright Lord is strong. Bested me in a moment, something no one else has even come close to doing. He's strong enough to face the Dark Lord, I reckon. There will be war, I guarantee it. Are you really going to deny yourself the chance to be a part of that?"

"Of course!" argued Gaz, "I won't be a slave. I have my pride. I didn't break like the others in Thaurband. I won't break now. I won't submit to the likes of him!"

"You best watch your tone, Gaz. If you aren't going to join us, then stay out of our way."

"No, you should be joining us! We're blood brothers, Bruz!"

"I… you know that I can't! Now scram!"

Gaz said, "I thought we were closer than that. Blood brothers first, even above our allegiance to the Chief. You're going to pledge yourself to this invader? You've… you've been branded too, haven't you?"

"Listen here, I'm to be made the new chief to replace the boss. Then, I'll be the overlord. Oh, bloody hell. I see a patrol coming. Get going!"

"We'll find a way to free you, Bruz!"

"None of that! Next time I see you, I hope you have a change of heart. The Bright Lord's going to rule this island. If you want to live, take a boat back to Thaurband. If you wise up and want to join us, I'll save you a place by my side when I'm overlord."

Gaz cursed him in Black Speech and turned away. His fellow Olog now followed after him.

"Should have joined us, brother. How am I ever going to protect you?" whispered Bruz.

He shook his head and turned back to the ceremony. He heard the Orc chanting the name of his new master. Soon enough, they would be waging war on Shuga's castle.

* * *

Overlord Ursa sat atop her black, armored horse. Her legion was standing behind her, save for the hundred guarding her ships. On her right, was Bruz the new chieftain. He wore a massive pauldron upon his shoulder, with an axe molded onto the side. Fresh war paint was painted over his face like a mask. His previous commander was now seated as one of his captains. The war troll led a legion of a thousand and two hundred. With their combined might, there was a chance for the siege to reach a speedy conclusion. Before them was the fortress. The walls were made of layers of stone, and behind it was the keep, a building nearly six levels high. Great bones of grog and other beasts hung about the walls and architecture. A home fit for a king of Orcs.

Ursa strode her horse over to the large Olog.

She said, "You must be the Chopper. I am sorry we did not yet meet."

"Queen of the Orcs, eh? A tiny, ugly thing you are. But looks can be deceiving. You've got to have nerves of metal if you survived this long and united so many. It's an honor."

Ursa said, "The honor is mine Bruz… I think."

She then stretched out her right hand and said, "Bring the catapults into range! Aim for their war machines!"

Her officers repeated the orders. The large wooden wheels of her catapults rolled forward now. Unlike the keeps' grounded trebuchets, her catapults could steer in any manner of directions thanks to their wheel systems. Ursa had brought several small catapults with her on the ships. These large ones were taken from a small keep south of the Overlord's fortress and rebuilt to include wheels.

She now stated, "Talion should be arriving with another army soon."

Bruz remarked, "We've only been here a week and he's got another Warchief? I'm both terrified and impressed."

Ursa said, "He's become proficient on defeating his enemies. The list of those who can stop him shrinks by the day."

"You do love to brag about him, don't you love?"

"Of course, I do," said Ursa, "He is my husband after all."

"Ah… young love" spoke Bruz with a cheerful smile.

* * *

Within an hour, Talion arrived to fortify the ranks. He brought five hundred Uruk in tow, along with catapults, ladders, and ballistae. Leading them was Droog, a young Orc from the Feral Tribe. It was said the Feral tribe was responsible for conquering the island. Their hunting prowess and ability to tame any beast allowed such a feat. Under the banner of their Warchief, their tribe ruled the southern half of the island. Of course, this was merely the center of their tribe. Many tribe members were sent elsewhere in Núrn. It was not unusual for tribe members to swear allegiance to other tribes or to Orcs without any tribe of their own.

As Talion rode atop his white horse, a herd of a hundred Caragor was beside him. Each was green and as lush as the forest they left in their wake. Towering above them was a mighty Grog formed of tree and vine. The Spirit of Carnán had kept true to her promise.

"He is here," said Ursa, "Now we send out the trolls."

Indeed, the armored trolls could last the longest against the arrows and could break through the wall after some time. Even so, she kept her finest war trolls with her other heavy ranks, saving them for the final stage of battle.

Bruz said, "I wouldn't want to be one of them."

Ursa said, "We will make their mission a bit easier. I can at least deal with the siege beast."

Ursa's gaze focused on the top of the castle's wall where she saw a great ballista firing down on her forces. The broken Grog remained still as its engineers sent rocks hurling at the enemy's war machines. Dozens of archers protected it. At their range, she could barely see it. Her magic would not be precise. Ursa extended out her hand and called upon the dark powers. Fire engulfed the top of the wall. She heard the archers screaming in pain. To escape it, many threw themselves off the side and plunged to their deaths. Her heart waved for but a moment at the sickening sights he had caused. All the while, her gaze remained strong as steel. War was beginning to harden her. The flames now fell upon the ballista and began to sting at the Grog's armor. Bruz's mouth dropped as he saw her sorcery in all its horror and glory.

"Ah… I get why you are the Queen."

From behind, Talion said, "She was a warchief long before gaining her powers."

"Thanks to both our efforts," corrected his wife, "Talion… wait for the fires to settle before you breach the defenses."

"As you wish," he answered, "First comes the charge."

The Bright Lord revealed himself alongside his host. Together, they stood in front of the front lines.

The Warchiefs stood directly behind him. Bruz tapped his massive mace into his palm. He was itching for this war. Ursa looked to Talion as he drew out his sword.

Talion shouted out, "This keep cannot hope to hold us at bay for even a day! Steel yourselves for their end is nigh! Forward ranks, prepare to advance! On my signal… Charge!"

He aimed his sword at the citadel where the Overlord was watching. From atop the fortress, the old lancer growled as he saw nearly three legions set upon him. The front of the enemy army was charging with Olog-Hai, shield-bearing Orcs, and weaker grunts making for the wall. He had hundreds of archers prepared to cut them down, but his Grog was already succumbing to death by the Witch's magic.

Ursa said, "Bruz, send your trolls below the dead grog. There are no archers there. Talion…"

He answered, "I will hold the wall."

The ranger let out a war cry and joined the front ranks as they made their charge. Arrows whizzed past him, screeching as they did. He heard goblins keel over dead and the trolls groan as the projectiles pierced their hides. From where he was, the wall was about thirty meters away now. He stopped his charge and drew out the wraith's bow. He set the shot for just above the wall's rim. The moment the arrow reached its mark, he appeared on the side of the keep. Talion panicked as he fumbled for something to grip onto. His gloved hands managed to catch a notch before he fell. The ranger leapt a meter up as the Wraith elevated him. His bow fired out another invisible arrow that killed a bowman beside him. He heard the great Grog groaning as Ursa's flames continued to consume it. To his surprise, he saw something stirring at the foot of the wall. Carnán's wolves climbed up the wall and pounced upon the Orc companies. The Caragor-riders of the Feral Tribe joined them. Together, the wall would surely be taken.

Ursa said, "Over two thousand Orcs are waiting for us in there. When they breech the wall, all chaos will be set loose."

"When it does, I'll be there to pop off their heads" said the Chopper.

Ursa said, "Return to your ranks. They will need their Warchief for what is to come."

"As you wish, my Queen."

* * *

The battle raged on for several hours. Talion found no way to reach the Overlord hidden deep within his keep, barred behind a massive set of gates. As such, the ranger began to slay and turn Orc captains while keeping the wall free of archers. Below, shield-bearers protected Orcs with battering rams that hammered at the gates. Even more, Carnán's Grog was among them. It punched hard at the gate, each blow like that of four trolls. It soaked in the arrows and fire from the defenders. As for the trolls, they were part of the second effort to breech the wall, this time by focusing their swings on a single point. After the fourth hour, the tide at last turned in favor of the invaders. The forest grog had been burned to death by oil before the gate could be destroyed, but luck had appeared elsewhere. The Olog had managed to shatter enough stones to collapse a portion of the wall. Ursa quickly sent in the war trolls and her heavy units to slaughter the spearmen and shield-wielding Uruk on the other side.

Bruz cackled as he sent an enemy shield-bearer hurling into the sky. With a second swing, he tore through another's shield. One of his trolls picked up a large Uruk-Hai and then smashed him into the ground. The enemy's shield bearers swiftly retaliated with a reign of javelins. One of Bruz's trolls died as the lances skewered him from head to toe. The Chopper charged forward and broke apart their ranks with his ferocious might. About him, armored Uruk were cutting down the defenders. As the battle turned in their favor, Ursa unleashed a thousand of her foot soldiers. The heavy units were sent to join Bruz in capturing one of the enemy flanks. It was not long before Talion took one of the wings of the fortress, planting his banner firmly in the ground.

A friendly captain now spoke, "They are all dead, my lord. Let us turn to the gate."

Talion said, "Send your trolls and battering rams to weaken it. We will hold out until Overlord Ursa arrives. We will need her power."

* * *

"Ursa! Ursa! Ursa!"

Hearing her name chanted caused Ursa to feel bashful. Even so, she acknowledged it was her they were cheering for. She had become Warchief, and wielded the power to fight beside her comrades in the battle. To fight alongside Talion as she had long wished.

She said, "Let us test his fire against mine."

The she-Orc created a small flame in her palm that glowed and flickered calmly. She breathed in and then out as if a furnace lay in her chest. As she gathered herself, the flames grew into a great orb of fire. The Overlord sent it higher into the air lest it begin to singe her face. Her clawed gauntlet now stretched forward. From the small flame, erupted a flurry. She spewed the flames like a torrent of water bursting from a dam. Her golden eye narrowed as she increased the heat of the flames. Indeed, she could control not just their abundance and shape, but their temperature. The wall of the fortress was now covered in fire as it spewed in all directions. In its thickened form, it was more like a gas than a simple fire. Soon the iron gate began to heat up and the metal glowed a bright orange. It was softening.

Ursa called back her flames, molding them above her palm. She wrapped them together into an orb of fire, as they had been created. She imagined the blast Talion had described, the magic of the Witch King's making that had broken the gates of Minas Ithil. Compared to those gates, these were nothing. However, this was far faster than simply leaving it to the trolls. Ursa released the ball of fire. With all intensity, it struck the molten gate. As it collided, it burst in a flash of light and an eruption of fire. The rotting gate fell open. Ursa then put out the flames so that the metal began to cool.

Talion said, "I bring only my finest warriors. I need only those who will not get in the way."

Talion brought with him Bruz and Ursa on each side. Joining the officers, were fifty armored Uruk and Bruz's party of trolls. Two Feral tribe members armed with javelins also trailed closely. Beside Talion, was one other man. It was Hallas, armed with a shield and sword. His face was pale and he was sweating. He had not been prepared for the horrors before him. His nerves had long burnt out, but he remained fixed on his Queen.

Ursa said to him, "Hallas, we must keep our distance form the Overlord. Slay any that approach me."

"It will be done my lady."

Ursa could see he was frightened. This was his first bout of war after all. She had intended to keep him by the ships, but he had reminded her of their promise. He had begged for a chance to prove himself and there seemed no greater opportunity than this.

"Stay close," she whispered.

As they walked inside the Overlord's layer, they saw him upon his throne. The throne room was massive, far larger than that in Morn. It must have taken most of the space in the keep as it stretched for five hundred feet in width. Draped about were red curtains and statues of the Dark Lord. The throne itself was seated at a flight of stairs. In the backdrop was a stone carving of a wolf and rows of torches that lit up the back of the room. On the seat, sat Ugluk with his spear tightly in his grip. In front of him were five trolls and a hundred of his finest Uruk, each bred for battle and hardened by it.

"You traitors!" he roared out, "Bruz! You have betrayed all of Mordor!"

Bruz said, "Ah, Orcs betray Orcs all the time. We side with the strong and my new masters are just that. I bring you the Bright Lord! Ah… and the Overlord from Núrn: Ursa the Cunning."

He whispered, "This should be a fun fight."

The Overlord slammed his spear upon the ground, setting jets of flame out of it.

"You shouldn't have come here. Look around you. My finest Orc and Olog are ready to fight to the death. And I… I've been given power you cannot imagine, imbued from the Nazgul."

Ursa sad, "So it is true. Another Orc who can use magic."

Talion said, "A useful power. We will have to take him alive."

Bruz says, "He… um… He will step down, won't he?"

The Wraith said, "Magic or not, he failed to even hold this island for a week, no less his castle for a day. A more fit Overlord is needed. He will do nicely as a Warchief, I am sure."

"Now that's what I like to hear, mate!" said the Olog-Hai.

Ursa shouted, "Talion, above us. Archers!"

Indeed, archers were resting on two balconies up above, hiding in the shadows with arrows drawn.

Talion said, "I will clear them. Bruz take the Warchiefs trolls. Ursa, scatter the ranks."

He fired an arrow and vanished into the air. The trolls now charged forward and battered through the defenses. The pikes and barricades set up meant nothing compared to their unstoppable might. Meanwhile, the Witch of Núrn summoned a fire in the enemy ranks. The shield-bearers faltered as flames began to climb up from below. The battle quickly erupted as Bruz's trolls and those of Ugluk collided in battle. They let out their resonated bellows as they battered at one another, throwing fist and iron to break their opponent's bones. Bruz grabbed hold of a smaller troll by the head, as he blocked the swing of another. He tossed the pinned ogre to the ground and then swung down hard on his back. As the other troll lunged at him, he swatted him away with the back of his arm. As Celebrimbor had predicted, even such mighty opponents were no match for his champion.

Up ahead, the Overlord brought out his spear and summoned its flames. As Talion's elite charged him, he dodged the flurry of their swings. He spun swiftly and knocked them backwards. He ducked below a forward thrust and impaled one Orc. The Orc cried out in pain as fire erupted through his intestines. The Overlord cackled as he pulled free the spear and lobbed off the other's head. Even the armored Uruk were knocked back. With each spin, the Overlord left a fiery trail, decimating all in his wake. Ugluk stretched out his arms and cackled at his own might. He felt utterly unstoppable, ready to challenge the traitorous Warchfi and his master. In that moment, fire engulfed him. He screamed out in pain as Ursa gazed at her prey. She had no patience for theatrics and gloating amidst combat. His armor protected him, but it burned through the openings and bit at his face.

Just then, one of the Olog saw the she-Orc standing in the middle of the room. He grabbed hold of one of his own Orcs and tossed it at her. Hallas pushed her to the side as the body battered her ranks. The troll checked to see if he had killed her, but right then Talion's sword came plunging down into his head. The ranger dug hard, igniting frost all the Olog's body as he cracked through his hide and skull. As the Olog fell dead, Talion landed before the Overlord of the island.

"You'll pay for that, Tark!" said Ugluk as he charged forward.

Talion ducked low as his opponent swung out his spear. He felt the fire burn at his hair and flesh. He hurriedly patted it out, but was forced to roll again as Ugluk continued his barrage. He was a true master of the spear, using its reach to keep his opponents at bay.

Talion realized this advantage and so fired off a luminous arrow. He appeared in front of Ugluk and knocked him down. Immediately, the Overlord regained his footing and spun the spear around him. The ranger weaved around it, moving in faster than his opponent had predicted. As the spear moved past him, Talion swung down on the Overlords' helmet. Ugluk grunted as the blow stunned him. Talion slid his sword to the side to cut his throat. Ugluk immediately reeled his spear around and deflected the blow. His hands nimbly danced the shaft of the spear around his head as Talion tried to outmaneuver him. The ranger would surely best him in time, but the ring would settle matters more quickly.

Right then, Bruz's club came hurdling downward. The Overlord was knocked against one of the statues of Sauron, shattering the front of it. His body was now broken and burned. However, he roared and stood again, ready for combat. His finest bodyguards and remaining trolls surrounded him as he made his final stand.

"Die here fool!" shouted an Olog as he charged him. He knocked aside the other troll and swung down. Ugluk rolled to the side and stepped backwards. He stretched back his arm and sent his spear into the mouth of the troll. The fire ignited and began to burn at his head. The great troll fell over dead as if he were only a common Orc. Swiftly the Overlord regained his weapon. His posture was now off balance as he clutched his broken ribs. Talion drew closer, slaughtering Ugluks's remaining forces. He felt a great fire from behind as Ursa engulfed those that tried to escape. She stood in the back of the room as Hallas dueled with an assassin to her side.

Around the Overlord, Talion's forces drew closer. Bruz's club swung at the last of the bodyguards, sending blood gushing out as he crushed them. Meanwhile, Ugluk sent a flurry of blows in Talion's direction, trying to stab him in the head. The ranger's head twisted to the side and avoided each thrust. The final strike, the ranger deflected with his gauntlet. The Overlord let his fire exploded, burning Talion's shoulder armor. However, the Gravewalker reached out with his hand and caught the shaft of the spear. Ice wrapped around the fiery spearhead and down the rod. The Overlord was now frozen solid. Talion reached out and grasped at his mind.

Celebrimbor roared, "Suffer me now, cur!"

With that, the Overlord was taken. However, with his body so mutilated, he would never reach his former glory.

Near the entrance, Hallas continued to fight the assassins. Ursa's other bodyguards continued to duel with the Overlord's last fighters. With a dagger in hand, the assassins danced around their opponents. Already, one of her guards had fallen to their speed. With Talion's victory decided, she focused upon her foes. She fired a burst of fire like arrows. Each breath of fire knocked them off their feet. She then expanded the flames that burned them, eating at their flesh until they utterly consumed them. In a second all were dead.

"Check the bodies," said Ursa.

Right then, one of the fallen assassins plunged up from behind. His dagger was aimed at Hallas.

"Hallas! Watch out!" she cried.

His eyes widened in fear. Immediately, he pulled his shield to the right and blocked the dagger. With his free hand, he swung his short sword and cut open the assassin's chest.

Ursa said, "Well done."

"Are you alight my lady?"

"Thanks to you, I am."

She smiled at him before turning to look forward. Talion stood victorious at the throne itself, a seat his great deeds had earned. There the old Overlord kneeled at his feet. Their invasion had been a sound victory. They had lost only five hundred Orcs in the invasion while the enemy lost many legions.

* * *

Talion stood at the far up balcony of the fortress. He gazed down at his army and a thousand Orcs gazed up at the Bright Lord. To his right, stood Ursa holding her helm by her side. On his left, stood the new Overlord.

Celebrimbor cried out, "This day, the Island of Carnán is ours! Let Sauron tremble as another of his great realms falls to the Bright Lord! Soon, we will march to Barad-dûr and bring down his precious tower! For now, this is an age of celebration! Victory to the glorious conquerors!"

From the very air, the Elven glave entered the mortal world. Its silver form shimmered as its wielders spun it around their head and then plunged it into the balcony. Like a tormented sea, white waves resonated down the keep and through the gateway. Indeed, all on the island felt the chill of the Bright Lord and his ring of power.

"I give you your victors!' said Talion, "Ursa, Queen of the Orc. Her fire consumed their ranks and brought the mighty gate down."

Ursa held her long locks of hair steady in the wind. From this height, it was freezing and biting her skin. Even so, she smiled down at the ranks.

Her gaze, kind and terrible, bore down upon them as she shouted out, "This day is for you my brothers. I welcome you, the glorious survivors, into my ranks and into the new kingdom of Núrn!"

As the cheers of thousands deafened the ears of the great warlords, Talion again spoke.

"And I give you your new Overlord: Bruz the Chopper! He slew the mightiest of Ugluk's ranks and earned the throne for himself. He will lead your army. Submit to your new warlord!"

Bruz said to Talion, "Oh, I'm feeling emotional. A bit nervous to. Don't have the nerve to speak, I don't think I can- Alright, here we go."

He roared out to the ranks, "Was there ever any doubt? I broke the skulls of all who opposed me a hundred times, and I reckon I'll do it a hundred times again on whatever poor army they send to retake this place! You've gathered under the banner of the strongest Olog-Hai in all of Núrn, yes you have! Fight beside me and I'll give you the victory you seek! Now, let's drink some grog!"

Somehow the cheers were even louder than when the Bright Lord and Ursa had spoken. Talion was inclined to believe it had to do with the Orc's love of alcohol-laced celebration.

Indeed, the entire fortress soon became a place of merrymaking. The halls, the training grounds, the Caragor enclosures, and the barracks all became riled with celebration. Bad ale and Caragor meat were passed around. War tales and aspirations spread as the Orcs became lighthearted. For them, there was no happier day than a day of victory. For all the victors, it marked an important occasion. Thaurband aside, the lands of Núrn had been conquered.


	15. The Sanctuary and the Assassin's Return

**Chapter Fifteen: The New Sanctuary and the Assassin's Return**

"The forest is cruel. It does not decide between good and evil. We are not Orc nor evil folk, yet it drives us from its realm. It taunts us with its promise of harvest and life, yet we are forbidden from tasting it. It seems we must burn away this spirit or abandon all hope of a new life here." – _Heissan, Captain of the Tribesmen, six months after settling on the Island of Carnán_

* * *

In the throne room of Bruz the Chopper, the lords of Núrn crafted their plans for war.

Ursa spoke, "This should be our last defense… a final fortress to hide away when all is lost."

Talion replied, "I agree. Not without reason did this island remained unconquered for centuries."

The Wraith now spoke up, saying, "To secure its safekeeping, we will need Thaurband."

Overlord Ursa replied, "Then let us sail home, my lord. My army grows idle and hungry."

Bruz said, "I'll get to strengthening the defenses here. We'll have the whole in the fortress sealed up in no time."

Ursa said, "A splendid idea. With Carnán watching over you, this island will be safe. It may be the safest place in all of Mordor… or perhaps it is a trap waiting to be placed under siege. I'm not yet sure."

She then turned to Talion and said, "When we return to Fort Morn, there is something I wish to discuss with you."

"That's quite a long wait," said the ranger, "why not speak back at the camp?"

Ursa said, "It is in regards to…. our family's future."

"I… I see," he answered, feeling his heart sink.

* * *

After another three days, the last of Ursa's legions boarded onto her black ships. Even more, the island was now secured with all warchiefs and captains accounted for. Ursa sent out parties to check for rogue Orcs, but few had been brought to light. The island seemed secure for now. Gathered at the shore, her flotilla prepared their departure to the green coast of the mainland. However, the Queen of Orcs was not yet ready. She had returned to the heart of the forest one last time.

Ursa bowed before the great avatar of the island, of all Mordor's green. She did not look up as the vines poured out from the great tree. She heard the creaking of branches and the falling of leaves. At her feet, the moss was flourishing and patches of flowers sprung forth.

The ancient voice uttered, "Why have you not departed these shores, half-breed?"

The child answered, "I came to thank you. It would not have been a victory without your power. I am forever in your debt."

The lady of the forest answered, "Yet you come with a request, do you not?"

Ursa said, "Yes. I would like to make this place a haven one day… of Orc and of Man. For that, I may need to entrust much to you."

The forest said, "Is that so? Your kind have never asked for permission before."

Ursa said, "You have always decided who lives here and who does not. The Dark Lord has never truly sought to conquer Núrn. He sends only legions to secure the fortress, forbidding even his Black Captains from leading them. Your death would deprive this island of its lush forests that never wither. You could plant a thousand stocks of corn and new ears would grow every season of the year. That is why you will protect Núrn from its conquerors. This island is a jewel beloved by all of Mordor."

Carnán answered, "You have devised much, Ursa the Cunning… but why should I allow your filth to live here?"

Ursa said, "You already allowed the Feral Tribe to build a fortress. It was only when they defied Sauron and entered the heart of the forest that you slew them. I am sure those of the tribes committed a similar deed to anger you. "

"It is not my way to be bold, until the utmost moment. It is not the way of the earth, of the trees, of the wind to be hasty."

Ursa said, "Then... Please… I beg you, oh great one. You promised to protect Bruz's army. I only ask that you take a few more into your dominion. Let your island be sanctuary to those that love only peace."

"Peace? You speak for many, but your heart cries out for one above all. Who is the one you desire to send here so desperately?"

* * *

Orison sat atop the steps of the palace as he awaited the return of his daughter. The black ships had long since anchored by the shore. However, the army had yet to arrive. With the Queen's absence, Fort Morn had fallen silent. None had disturbed the borders, leaving Talion's warchiefs to rule unhindered. Throughout the city, the people uneasily waited for the return of their leaders, wondering what would become of them if they did not return.

At last, he heard an Orc horn blare off, calling them home. The gate was drawn open, and he saw the banner of the Bright Lord, a blue moon set in front of a background of white. Talion led a procession of the chieftains as they rode swiftly to the palace. Besides him, rode Ursa atop her steed, dressed in her draconian armor. Her face was seasoned by war with a smile that showed her pride. He would never truly know of the meek, fearful Orc she had arisen from. Hallas guarded her closely. His face was pale, but he carried himself upright. At last, he had proved himself for his Queen.

Ursa said to her bodyguard, "Look Hallas… you are to be greeted home as a hero."

 _A hero?_

Those words stirred within him. For a moment, he felt like the ranger, no the solider he wished to be. Yet such a moment was fleeting.

Ursa said, "Please understand… your duties are not just to me, but to the free people of this land. It is their lives you are saving each time you draw up your sword. Your sacrifice will bring peace for the next generation."

Hallas asked Ursa, "A world where Inga will be safe?"

She answered, "A world where all children are safe. Where they can grow up without fear of darkness and war."

He whispered, "A world without war? Is such a thing possible?"

The world had been cruel to him and those he loved. It had taken the pride of his master. It had left his father but a hollow shell of his former self. It had taken his father from him when he needed him most. It had abandoned that child to the cruelty of Mordor. He tried to imagine a better world, but he could not see it. Even so, he engraved his kind Queen's words upon his heart. As he pondered on them, the party reached the steps of the palace.

"Father," said the Queen as she circled him on her ebony war horse, "It is good to see you."

Her heir of queenliness fell away as she spoke to him, being replaced by a softer presence.

Orison answered her, "You return to me victorious."

Hallas said, "She poured fire upon the enemy ranks. I had never imagined such magic."

Ursa said, "Your apprentice protected me from their assassins. From now on, he will remain by my side."

The young soldier quickly bowed to her and said, "It is an honor."

Ursa said, "Please do not bow. We do not stand on ceremony here. Tonight, is a night of celebration. But first, a bath will do nicely."

She giggled lightly. Truthfully, her joke was less than it appeared. Ursa longed for a bath in the boiling waters of her washroom. Now that she was used to such luxuries, she couldn't much stand the reek of Mordor hygiene. Right then, Ursa's hand slipped through the arm of her love. Talion smiled and then turned over to kiss her on the cheek. She closed her eye as his lips pressed lovingly against her flesh, and felt herself turn flush. It seemed she would never tire of it. From behind, Hallas' heart ached at the sight. Even so, he could not feel great jealousy towards Talion, only a resentment towards his own weakness. He could not hate the hero he aspired to be.

"I thought it would be enough to merely be by her side," he thought, "If only you were not so kind to me, Queen Ursa, I might not have fallen under your terrible spell."

However, he knew Ursa would never be his. Even if a part of her felt a great affection for him, he could never steal her gaze for but a moment. The love she showed him could never compare to how she glowed when she saw Talion. She would never betray her ranger. Hallas clasped at his breast, hoping to crush his own heart and silence the pain. Instead, a single tear trickled down his face as he saw them walk off.

"Hallas," said a familiar voice, "Don't let it take you."

He spun to see Orison staring at him sadly. The young man turned away again and quickly rubbed at his eyes.

Hallas asked, "Master, I… I…"

He hung his head in shame as more tears poured out.

"Master, I am sorry."

Orison said, "Bah! If you stir up trouble around her, I will beat you squarely. Nonetheless, I won't fault you for some unrequited feelings. Now tell me lad, what will you do if your dream is not possible?"

As Hallas did not answer, Orison then asked, "Would you break your oath to her? Put aside the soldier and return to the wild? Would you leave my daughter's side?"

"Never!" said Orison, "I promised to protect her. I will… I will have to put aside these foolish feelings. Although, I do not know if I can stop loving her. Even so, I will hide it forever if I must."

Orison said, "You're still just a lad in my eyes with many years ahead of you. Your pain will end in time. Love will come to you again. You will see."

Hallas bowed and gave a weak smile, even as his heart bled without end.

That night, he would not attend the celebration.

* * *

The next morning, Núrn's blue sky was replaced by a grey overcast. For the race of Men, such days did not seem so beautiful, but for the Orcs, many gathered outside to enjoy the lesser light. The Overlord herself stood by the edge of the water with her husband by her side. She danced about the soft sand as the great lake, with the power of a sea, sent waves against her feet.

Ursa said, "I remember when I first arrived here. I felt neither a flake of ash against my face nor heat burning at my skin. The cool water healed me, and I knew this would be my home."

Talion said, "I did not believe a sea could exist in a land as desolate as Mordor. I was wrong. When I arrived here, I thought of every excuse to not leave the water's edge, even risking the patrols."

She answered, "It seems that you have an affinity with it."

Talion said, "Well, with ice."

Celebrimbor now appeared between them and said, "To be precise, I have such an affinity."

Ursa said, "Ah, forgive me. It is a wonderful power. I cannot help but be envious."

"Why?" asked the Wraith, "Even if drawn from Sauron, this fire is your own."

Ursa said, "That is not true."

"I believe it is," he argued, "Remember your words to Carnán. Fire is a source of life in its own way. Your fire is glorious. It remakes the world into a better one. Never forget that."

Ursa's face was clearly flustered by his kindness and she struggled to speak.

She said, "I am overwhelmed… to be given such a compliment by the Bright Lord. Thank you."

Talion said, "What is this? Why are you so well-mannered today, Celebrimbor? Since when do you give compliments to others?"

Ursa said, "It is not the first time. I simply didn't expect such poetry for such a terrible power."

Talion said, "What do you mean by that? You never compliment me, Wraith."

The phantom answered, "And I never will as long as you expect them. Now, finish your… prolonged honeymoon so that we might ready the next stage of our war."

He then simply said, "Fool."

With that, he walked away down the shore as far as he knew it was safe to go without separating from Talion's body. Although he did not know why, he did not wish to hear them nor watch them. It was not simply Talion's teasing that had angered him. In that moment, he needed to be away.

* * *

Ursa said, "He has grown fond of you Talion, though he does not easily show it. You have a bond with him. In a way, it may be even closer than you and I."

"Do not say that," said Talion, looking more unsettled than hurt.

"Whatever differences you might have," said Ursa, "No longer matter. He is your brother-in-arms until the very end."

Talion said, "Celebrimbor's eyes are ever to the future. I do not know if he sees bonds as you and I do. His bonds were taken long ago and never replaced. I was given another chance. For him, his future lies solely in overthrowing Sauron."

Ursa said, "Even so, I believe he has found bonds with you and I. There is love there."

"Love…" said Talion.

Talion's eyes turned to the far off wraith, standing by the water. As the ranger returned to the scenic sea before him, his wife began to brood. She wondered how she would tell him what she needed to, that which ached her heart.

After another twenty minutes, she found herself able to and the Wraith returned to them.

"Talion…" she said, "I am sorry to ruin our time like this, but I must speak my mind."

He gulped and asked, "Is it about what you said back on the Island of Carnán?"

"Y-Yes," she said, "I will not hide here in Núrn. I know you and the Wraith intend to go to Gorgoroth. I will join you. We can ride by the dragon."

Talion said, "You will not. You have a child to watch over and people that need you."

"Do you not need me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," said Talion, "but war calls us to many fronts."

She said, "With my power, this war can move swiftly. I can turn to ash all that oppose us. I can help establish the powers in Gorgoroth. You did commission me to lead all the Orcs of Mordor."

"You would leave Inga without a mother?"

"Inga's mother is already gone more than she ought to. If I could choose, I would stay here with her always. Instead, you will leave me to guard Núrn, even when it has an Overlord and a dozen Warchiefs to guard it, with Queen Marwen and her daughter, with thousands of Orcs guarding our borders? My fire is meant for war. Please Talion, I can't wait here again. Not again. I need this war to be over so that the three us can be together forever."

"Ursa… It is too risky. You cannot abandon Inga. She will grow up swiftly and when she does, it will not be you she calls mother."

"She needs a father too."

Talion's mouth closed and he said nothing in response.

Ursa said, "I would take Inga to the Island of Carnán. The spirit of the forest has promised her protection. I can send Hallas and my father to join her. Beside the fortress, I hope to create a new colony. A sanctuary. There are humans and Orcs who have managed to live side by side here in Morn. They do not yet know how to see past their differences but… they are learning. I believe it is possible."

"Ursa, how long have you been devising this?"

She said, "Since our daughter was born. I thought of hundreds of scenarios, but could think of no way to protect her. I thought to send her to Minas Tirith, but we both know it is no paradise. Fort Morn is fortified, but all kingdoms may fall. Talion, if we fail in our quest… we must protect Inga. Sauron will not invade the island to slaughter a few hundred rebels and risk killing the being who brings him his harvest. She will be safe there."

"Ursa, do you think we will fail?"

"No," she said, "I refuse to believe such a thing. Nevertheless, I will not risk my daughter's safety on that belief. Please, let me send her to Carnán. Let me fight with you."

He answered, "A single arrow could end your life. You do realize that?"

She said, "I have risked my life since the moment I was born. The only difference is I now have the power to fight back. The two of us possess great magic. Together, we could turn the course of the war."

Talion sighed and put his hands to his hips. He began to pace about the room as he contemplated.

He said, "I have no qualms with your colony, although I do not know if it will be as peaceful as you believe. We can send Inga there once it has been built. However, are you up for flying on a drake, riding into the heat of battle? I am not used to protecting another life, especially since I cannot die. Your gaze must be true. Not a single arrow must get through your flames."

She said, "They will not."

"Together then?" asked Talion, "Celebrimbor once said that love would distract me. Indeed, love has made me weary of this war. Yet it has anchored me to this world. It makes me strong. Perhaps together, we can win. I will accept this plan. For the record, I still think it is reckless and selfish of you."

Ursa grimaced and said, "I know it must seem that way. Yes, my motives are not all together selfless."

The ranger said, "What of you, Celebrimbor? I suppose we cannot decide this without you."

The Wraith scoffed and said, "You may send your child where you see fit. Build where you see fit. I care not. As for your accompanying us, I approve. Sauron will be expecting our Witch to remain in Núrn. Instead, Mordor will be taken swiftly by ice and fire. Shelob's young now watch our borders. They will inform us if an army marches for Núrn. With a set of wings, we can return within weeks."

"Lord Celebrimbor" she said, "I thank you."

"There are conditions" said the Wraith, "Firstly, you will wear your helmet and armor whenever we are in battle. Secondly, there will be no turning back. You will ache for your daughter, you will suffer without her. If you follow us, you must accept what you have done. It cannot be undone. Your child will grow up in the many months of your absence. You may cry in the arms of your husband, but I will not allow you to return. Nay, not until we have victory, or I find reason to return to Fort Morn."

Ursa said, "Lord Celebrimbor, I understand, and I accept your conditions. I only ask that Talion and yourself understand I truly love Inga. I know as a mother I will have failed her, but if I can kill Sauron and create a new world for her, I will accept my sin."

* * *

As Ursa's legions prepared to march to Thaurband, the ranger made his return to Fort Morn after a day-long hunt. Núrn appeared secure for the time being. Most Orc hunting parties now served him, and those that did not were slain. As it was, he had finished a hunt for the greatest of the Graug in Núrn. Accompanying him had been the dwarf hunter Torvin. With the beast slain, Talion intended to return home to Inga. It was likely that it would be the last time he saw his daughter for many months. However, as he traversed the green hills of outer Núrn, he came across a familiar creature. A large Ungol that had served him well in the past.

The Bright Lord asked, "Why have you come here Ungol? What news from the desert?"

"You flew fast, master. At last, we reached you." said the Ungol.

Celebrimbor said, "You have been tracking us?"

"Only a few of my brood…. can speak in your tongue…. Or speak at all. I thought… it best I… be close. I have news."

She said, "An Elf is here… in Núrn. She is… the one that… fought the Nazgul… in Minas Morgul."

"Eltariel," said Talion, "She came at last."

The Wraith said, "She is an assassin. She is not concerned with our war. If she is here, she must be hunting Nazgul or other unsavory sorts. We must go to her. This spells ill for Núrn."

Talion asked, "What breached our borders?"

The spider said, "Oh…. Many things, master. There are… strange Orcs here. And… a Nazgul."

"What?" asked Talion, "Where exactly?"

"They are at… an old tower. Camped there with… many Uruk. The Elf is nearby. She sent us."

"Clever," said Talion, "Let's meet up with Eltariel and drive this Ringwraith out of Núrn."

The Wraith said, "For what reason has this Nazgul come here? I fear this plot involves the ivory towers. We should go at once."

* * *

Ursa sat in her library as she nursed Inga. About her, were thousands of books and scrolls. Some were gifts from the Queen Marwen, others from the old Udûn archives. Many were copies she had commissioned from the tribesmen. Ursa felt guilty as she considered how few she had read as of late. Once, she studied these books each and every day, reading new titles without fail. With Inga's birth, her studies came to an end. As such, half of her library remained untouched.

She said to Inga, "When I return, I will teach you to read. You will love books. Reading is a gift, Inga. Each book can bring you closer to Middle Earth in ways you cannot believe. Others will take you away to realms that exist only in your imagination. Yes, I know you will enjoy them."

She looked down to her daughter as the child continued to drink.

"Inga, you will have to do without your mother's milk soon. You are almost old enough now. Soon you will begin to crawl and speak and walk and… And…"

Droplets of water poured down onto Inga's forehead. The child stopped drinking and her golden eyes looked up. Her mother's lips were trembling.

"I hope you can forgive me. If I do not return, please know that your mother loves you and she wishes she could be with you. But I… I must bring your father home too."

Ursa repeated, "Your mother loves you, Inga. No matter what happens, please know that this is true."

The half-Orc pressed her head against the forehead of her daughter and upon her, she cried silently.

* * *

Eltariel remained idle, leaning against the wall of an old Gondorian wall. The rest of the building had long collapsed. She was drinking from a cask of water. By her feet, was a goblin bound fully and struggling. Blood was pouring out from his arms and legs, born from a series of thin cuts that had shaved away his flesh. Indeed, the Elf's freehand was holding onto a long, slender dagger stained with his black blood.

"Ranger and wraith," said Eltariel, "I see you received my message. But really… spiders? Drakes, spiders, Orc… you're beginning to look like a Dark Lord."

Celebrimbor said, "Yet it is my light that binds them."

Eltariel said, "Light? Let me show you true light."

From her hands, she held up the Light of Galadriel. The phial hummed as it poured out streams of golden light, bright as the full moon that hovered in the heavens. It was a light like the sun.

"The moon is a beautiful thing indeed," she said, "What an insult to compare your ring of domination to it."

The Wraith said, "Do you think that lesser star will protect you if I deemed you enemy?"

Talion said, "Easy there… Eltariel, why have you summoned us? What are the Nazgul planning?"

"Well," said the Elf, "This Orc claims to have seen an odd ceremony. It seems they are trying to claim the Barad Silme but… a single Nazgul is not enough. I doubt the Nine intend to gather here for this task alone."

"Without the ivory towers," said the Gravewalker, "We would not return to life. They've discovered our one weakness."

Eltariel answered, "Sauron's magic can be reversed. I know you took back the Haedir from the Witch King in Minas Ithil."

The Wraith said, "Yes, he turned the Barad Silme into Haediir, an imitation of the Palantir. He transformed a place of light into an abomination. If they have discovered them, I will have to protect every Forge Tower in Mordor. Another quest to waste my time! Talion, rid this scum from our borders! I will not suffer them here another moment!"

The ranger said, "Right, right. Well, we should be able to take a single Nazgul together."

Eltariel said, "The Nazgul is one of the weaker. Had it been the Witch King or the one called Khamûl, it would prove a more daunting task. Fortunately for us, the former is in Minas Morgul and the latter in Khazad-dûm. We will leave that to the Men and the Dwarves."

Talion asked, "Then which Nazgul is this?"

"A nameless king. Likely the same that invaded Núrn several months ago. I call him 'Accursed she-Elf. Die now' since that is what he answers whenever I ask for his name."

Talion said nothing.

She replied, "You really are humorless, aren't you?"

Eltariel shook her head and continued, "Ah, I should mention that the ceremony appears to not be for taking the Barad Silme. It is for granting Orcs power, much as he did for the Overlord in Carnán. I imagine that without the Nine, this black rider cannot claim the Barad Silme so easily. He will need Orcs with magic."

The Wraith said, "A revolting thought. We will end this ceremony at once, and cast this Ringwraith from Núrn."

Eltariel said, "If you two are ready, let us be off."

She then looked at her feet where the young Orc was struggling. She pulled off the binds from his mouth.

"Set me free!" he said, "I told you everything. Set me free, she-Elf! You promised."

"I did promise to set you free. And so I shall."

She reached down and grabbed him by the back of the head. Her blade swam over his throat, leaving a cut so fine the blood poured out almost elegantly. The Orc gurgled and cried as his life came to an end. Looking him over, Talion realized it was not yet an adult. Orc lived hundreds of years, but they matured quickly. Surely, this one was not even of age. Eltariel's cold eyes watched the young Orc as he slowly died at her hand, making sure her prey could not rise again.

"Follow me," she said, her voice like a whisper.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I realize Ursa's choice must seem selfish. In part, it is. Ursa simply cannot bear to wait another year without knowing Talion's fate as he flies off into danger. However, she would not have chosen to join him if she was not sure Inga would be safe. It was not until she spoke to Carnán that Ursa made her decision.


	16. The Corrupted and the Chosen

**Chapter Sixteen: The Plight of the Corrupted and the Chosen**

"You look upon the Towers of Starlight: Barad Silme. These forges have stood here long before my time… harkening back to an earlier age that none now live to remember. These monoliths stand upon the edge of the void, a beacon of light amidst the darkness. They make clear the way back to the land of the living. I have infused my power and made them into my forges. With them, you can never truly die." – _Celebrimbor speaking to Talion, shortly after their union_

* * *

The sound of frogs and crickets rang through Talion's ears. He paid them no heed as he followed closely, matching the natural speed of the Elf with that of the Wraith. They scurried through the darkness of night as they drew closer to the forge tower. Near the summit, they took a moment to rest and drink. After running for twenty miles, even Eltariel needed to regain herself. Talion's natural endurance had aided him, but his legs buckled, and he gasped desperately for air. Once Eltariel was certain there were no scouts nearby, she walked up to the ranger to make conversation.

Talion asked, "Are we close?"

The Elf maiden said, "Three leagues remain. The tower lies past this forest. Many Caragor riders surround it. We must slay them first."

Talion said, "You saw such things, in the dark of night? From three leagues away?"

"She is an Elf," said the Wraith, "Her sight far exceeds your own."

Eltariel said, "While we are asking questions, I had one for you ranger. What is this talk of a half-Orc being your wife?"

Talion's friendly demeanor immediately became like stone.

He asked, "Why should I speak of this with you, Elf?

The Elf replied, "Ah, so the rumors are true! You are a strange man indeed."

As Talion grit his teeth, she said, "Truth be told, what concerns me is not your romantic endeavors… it's the rumors I hear of fire engulfing the Island of Carnán. Fires of Mordor. Was she gifted it by the Nazgul?"

"No," said Talion, "She held the Morningstar of Sauron and was granted the Hammer's power over fire. Ursa said she…"

The ranger became reluctant to say more, lest the Blade of Galadriel begin to see Ursa as a threat.

The Wraith said, "Eltariel, you will not touch Ursa or any of my servants. Is that understood?"

Eltariel answered, "I'm not here to overthrow your servants, am I? Now tell me, what is it she said to you? What has this Ursa seen?"

"She said she spoke with Sauron… for a time."

Eltariel said, "Strange. She wields neither ring nor weapon of the enemy, yet the Dark Lord appeared before this woman, granting her great power. How do you know the Dark Lord does not use her as a spy?"

Celebrimbor answered, "Only the Palantir can reveal such things. Even with their rings, the Nazgul can only receive simple orders from their master. Without the One Ring, Sauron cannot see his servants nor control Ursa. The thing that spoke to her… it is like a shadow. It is merely his power and will given form. It is not Sauron himself."

Talion said, "I wish dearly it were so simple. However, the Black Hand told me… he said that Sauron was watching her, that she had his favor. That he could reach out and take her mind."

The Wraith answered, "Deception is his way, even when laced with truth. It may be that Sauron can sense her life force, her power, her greatest emotions. Imagine looking upon someone at night.. You see the silhouette against the shadows from the feint glint of the moon. Nothing is clear. Yet you know they are there. He knows she moves against him, he sees the wake of her actions, the limitlessness in how she wields but a taste of his power… that is why he favors her. That does not mean he can turn her into a puppet."

Talion asked, "So then she is safe…. He cannot possess her as he does the Nazgul."

"The Nazgul are not Sauron himself," said the Wraith, "They have a will… albeit chained by Sauron's own. And do not compare the rings of power to the evil of that weapon. They are not the same. It has been many seasons since she grasped it and she has not fallen. Even if she did, we would merely brand her."

Eltariel said, "War, shadow, and power will change her. She will fall into shadow. His whispers will eat at her. His fire will comfort her and she will become drunk on it. You will see. Worse, this Ursa carries the blood of the Orc. You best brand this Overlord soon before she turns on you and opens the gates to Núrn."

"Enough!"

The ranger walked in front of the Elf, stopping her advance towards the tower. His eyebrows were furrowed now and his face was stern.

Talion continued, "You know nothing her. Not a single thing! Her will alone brought her back form the darkness. Ursa has proven her loyalty without fail. She sent the Nazgul fleeing from Núrn, and turned the Tower to ash. She does everything out compassion for others… out of love for her family. She seeks peace, never power. But what would you know of it?"

Eltariel replied, "In the end, Sauron's power always corrupts. Once one accepts his gift, it will be their undoing. Nothing can save them, but the release of death."

Talion said, "Not as long as she has courage and good in her. Not as long as she feels love in her heart. She is strong."

"Love and hope cannot stop Sauron."

"What would you know of it, assassin?" he roared, "How long have you walked in the shadows, deprived of the blessing of your people? Left to fight a war alone, did you abandon all hope of victory? You wield a light, but it is not your own. Your legacy is of death, mixed with the blood of Mordor."

Eltariel said, "You know nothing of me, ranger. Perhaps the wraith in you will better understand. You are just a child, you've only begun to walk this path. You were an infant when I was out slaying those which sought to take Gondor."

"Then where were you when the Black Gate was taken again and again and again?!"

"Slaying the Nazgul seeking to raise your fellow rangers for their purposes. Watching the Black Captains arise time and time again in an endless war. Forced to face the emptiness of war, which you will soon understand. In the gulf of time, all that remains is the pleasure of the kill. In the end, one can only hope to stalemate Sauron. Unless his ring is found and destroyed, he can never die."

The Bright Lord said, "We come bearing a ring of power and a vast army. We have slain thousands of Orc and bested his Black Captains. How can you look upon that and despair?"

She said, "Despair? I delight in this. It is your confidence I worry about. Nonetheless, I acknowledge your power. That is why I am glad you are here. With you here, the odds have at last been evened."

She turned to Talion and smiled.

She said, "I realize now that I said too much. I am sorry if I have offended you. I am not used to speaking with people."

Talion said, "Is there really no one?"

"Galadriel at times sends orders," she replied, "Well, with you are here, I at least will something to look forward to. You two are truly unpredictable. These next few hunts will be most exciting!"

* * *

Up ahead, the Barad Silme was festering with Uruk. Hunched-over goblins armed with shields and short swords roamed about. Several hulking Uruk also guarded the front of the tower. Here there was a large Uruk-Hai standing with yellow, cold eyes. About him, Orcs in hoods and cloaks were chanting. For all their numbers, their scouts were already slain. The hunters responsible now drew close. They searched about for the Ringwraith, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Eltariel said, "That Orc… he has already been chosen. The Nazgul must be here if the Haedir has not yet been conjured."

The Wraith said, "I see him not even in the world of the wraith. He has concealed himself."

Talion said, "I will go and assassinate this Orc. If his master is watching, he will reveal himself. If not, it will be an easy victory."

She said, "Nazgul are my specialty. I will go first. They will believe I am hunting alone."

"After you," said the ranger.

Eltariel slipped out from their cover like a shadow and with ease, scaled the side of the tower, away from the eyes of the cult. A goblin archer turned away just as she overtook him from behind. Her hand wrapped around his mouth as she cut open his throat and bled him dry. She crept to the perch of the forge tower and peered down below. The ones called Shriekers, those that led the ceremony, continued to chant in Black Speech. They were also cursed by the Nazgul with an affinity for magic that would slowly eat away at their skin. Eltariel knew they were using a sluggish spell to take the Forge tower. In the middle of their circle was the Chosen, an Uruk possessing a far greater aptitude for magic and a heartiness to go with hit. It was left for him to cast the spell while they supported him. However, without their master, it might take days.

Silently on her perch, the assassin gazed down at her enchanting prey. Eltariel felt her heart begin to pound as she focused on her kill. In that moment, she felt utterly alive.

As she prepared to leap off and plunge her blade into the Chosen, black smoke fell upon her like a falling star. From it, was the green hew of the accursed dead. In the same second, a blade thrust straight downward upon her. The Elf slipped off the edge of the roost, and hung off the side with a single hand. She kicked to the side to gain momentum and then pulled herself back up. She moved like a fine dancer, paying no heed to weight or force. Instead, she seemed to fall from the edge and reappear in the same moment, slashing at the Wraith as she returned. As the edges of their blades collided, her friendly countenance had shattered. What was left was a grin upon her face, and eyes wild and focused.

"Come wraith! Let us see if I will best you again or if this be the day that I die!"

* * *

"Intruder!" said an Orc.

Talion heard their crude horn blow across the night, waking all of Núrn.

The Bright Lord said, "Fools. Who will come? Your patrols or ours?"

The ranger plucked an arrow, and brought it to the string of his bow. His eye found its mark, sending it towards the Chosen. The ranger appeared before him. With his glave in hand, he swung down into the center of the circle. Instead of the blast of wind, he sent down an overflowing sheet of ice. The entire Orc party were overcome by frost and ice. A dozen guards were left unable to move lest they tear their flesh from the muscle. However, the Chosen tore his arms free of it. He called upon the magic stored in his hammer to aid him. From the hammer, Talion saw a mist of red, it itself swarmed by what appeared to be Morgul flies and sparks of fire. The ice split apart and he charged for the ranger.

The Bright Lord said, "He is truly cursed. Do not let him touch you or he will inflict his curse upon you. I do not have a defense for this magic. We must overpower him with our own."

The Chosen said, "How dare you appear on our holy ground! This place belongs to the Witch King. He has chosen me to aid in this glorious task! The best part? I get to kill you, manfilth, once and for all! That is my destiny!"

Talion retorted, "Your destiny is to die at my blade, to share the fate of those far greater than the likes of you."

The Orc roared and charged at him, his hammer ready to bash open the ranger's head. Talion slid low below the Orc's swing. His own sword cut at the leg armor of the goblin, but did not draw blood. Immediately, Talion regained his footing and attacked again.

* * *

Up above, the Nazgul danced with its prey. Eltariel's blades moved like a whirlwind as she tried to cut around his guard. The wraith's long sword was incredibly fast, but could not keep up with her own dagger. However, its own power lay elsewhere. It swung diagonally, hoping to cut her open. Eltariel twisted herself to the side and stabbed one of her blades forward at its stomach. Immediately, it moved though her and began to circle the tower as it flew in a cloud of smoke. Her eyes were keen and watched it. There were only so many places it could land. However, the Nazgul had grown cunning to her ways. It plunged straight forward and went on past. Her eyes looked for it, but it was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes turned to the skies as its sword came sliding out of the wall of the tower. Eltariel smiled as she saw the sword pass through her, leaving her unharmed. She immediately moved to the side as her opponent took physical form. Her sword slashed into its head and it let out a scream. The Ringwraith vanished for a moment as it tried to heal its wounds.

* * *

Talion fired an arrow at the charging Uruk. The Uruk leapt up into the air and swung down with all his might. As the arrow vanished behind him, he came down hard, sending an explosion of red energy splattering about. He searched amidst the rubble for the remains of the man. Yet the ranger was behind him, in place of his arrow. Talion swung down the pommel of his sword so that it dented the back of his armor. The Orc cried out in pain and frustration as Talion continued to evade him.

"Filthy Tark!" he roared, "I cannot die to you! I have been chosen!"

The ranger was no longer listening. As the Orc swung his hammer behind him, the ranger ducked below it and sent his boot onto his chest. The Gravewalker spared no time in pinning him to the ground and wrestling the hammer from him. As his prey continued to struggle, Talion drew out the silver hammer of his old forge. The blunt edge of it broke open the Orc's skull. He continued to bash it into him as if laying waste to a forging anvil. The ranger then twisted it around so the sharpened edge faced the goblin's head. With a final swing, the Chosen's yellow eyes faded, and the magic left him.

"Above you, ranger!" shouted the she-Elf.

Heading her warning, Talion spun his sword around. His blade collided with the enemy's as the Ringwraith bore down on him. It was twisting its sword ferociously as they dueled, forcing the unsettled ranger to focus on his defenses. Up above, Eltariel ran across the tower's perch and plunged down. The Nazgul vanished as her blade cut through the air where he had been. As he reappeared, the cloaked figure swatted away one of her daggers and immediately pulled his blade up for a sudden thrust. The Elf twisted her neck to avoid it only to find it had latched to her throat with its iron hand. In a second, it would crush her with its immense strength. Eltariel quickly delivered a kick to its chin and then flipped over. She slashed both her daggers forward at its neck. The Ringwraith managed to block the attack by twisting the handle of the sword to above its head so the sword was blocking diagonally. Even against the Elf, it was a fine swordsman, leagues above that of most mortals. To the side, Talion was preparing an arrow. The Ringwraith let out a cry to stun Eltariel. She buckled against it and smiled as it hissed in her face.

It said, "You have forged a powerful ring, Gravewalker. Do you not think so she-Elf? Imagine the ring in the hands of an Elven assassin? What power you would wield if not for the mortal. Your alliance will crumble from the inside. The Dark Lord has foreseen it."

Eltariel said, "Oh? You must be jealous, carrying around a lesser ring bound to a master too foolish to keep his own."

It replied, "The light of Galadriel will not save you from the Witch King. You know this. Never once have you defeated him."

Eltariel's smile now faded and she said, "Spread your discord elsewhere. You have lost this battle."

The Ringwraith then said, "Gravewalker, I bring you a message from the Witch King. He awaits the day of your alliance. It is coming. Through death or defeat, you will join us!"

He then bore down upon them. Like a storm cloud, the darkness engulfed them. Eltariel drew out the light of the beloved star of Eärendil. The vial of water poured out its warmth and light, basking Talion in it. It made him realize that the Nazgul's presence was draining, even with all of his fortitude. Even the Bright Lord's light did not seem as kingly as this one, as revitalizing. The Nazgul cried out in pain as its darkness was burnt away. The assassin now put out her light, unable to fight in its full radiance.

She said, "The light cannot stay forever. Prepare yourself."

Immediately, the darkness returned, and a sword slashed down at Talion's back. However, Talion had drawn his bow upon Eltariel's warning. He fired an arrow a few feet forward. The ranger now reappeared as the Wraith finished its long swing. As its sword went forward, it could not stop its motion. Talion charged forward and plunged his sword through its heart. With the Nazgul weakened, Celebrimbor reached out and grabbed at its mind. He saw a feint memory as he pried about, but it was concealed in shadow and flame.

"You are banished!" shouted the Bright Lord.

He wrapped his power around the ring, around the Ringwraith's very form and that which bound it. He could not take that power nor slay the phantom, but his ring was one of subjugation. Even a defiant enemy could follow one order.

 _Flee._

Celebrimbor claimed the sacred ground as his own, and so the Nazgul was no longer welcome. His fear could no longer work here. The Bright Lord's order was one carved in pain. So it inflicted it into the Nazgul and exorcised it from the area. Its physical form was destroyed, and its spirit vanished into the world of the wraith. It would not return to mortal world again until it was made whole. When it did, it would be barred from Núrn for a time.

Talion asked, "When we banished him, I saw into his mind, if only for a moment. Was that your doing, Celebrimbor?"

"I was curious if we could subjugate him. Alas, his ring protects him from the full cruelty of my will. Even so, I was able to tear my way into his mind. He was not as forthcoming as… as Ursa. We will try again."

Eltariel said, "Impressive, most impressive. It seems you were not lying, not fully, when you said your ring is formidable. I have staved them off with blade and light, but your light banished him. Perhaps it is purer than I believed."

Talion replied, "A shame it did not leave its ring."

She answered, "The rings are imbued with the Ringwraith's power so it travels with them just as yours does. We would need to cut off the ring from their hand to separate it, to take ownership. Yet, even without the ring, it would survive. It is tied to the fate of its master."

She then said, "In any case, this was a victory."

Talion said, "You fought well."

The Bright Lord said, "Indeed. Your swordsmanship was most exquisite, even for an Elf."

Eltariel said, "I do love flattery. Now let us be off."

Celebrimbor stated, "I will send a division to watch over the tower. From now on, we will guard them carefully."

Talion said, "We shall. Eltariel, what will you do now? There may be more chosen to hunt. If you wish, you may find refuge tonight at my palace."

She said, "A generous offer, but I must be going."

Talion said, "Is it duty that drives you or fear of friendship?"

She said, "I thank you for your kind offer, but my home is elsewhere. Now I must return to my hunt. I will contact you if more wraith travel your way."

"I will count on you then," he said.

She smiled warmly, a look Talion thought was rather pleasant. Eltariel pulled back her hood, freeing her shimmering hair. It seemed her golden hair was tied back in a long braid.

Eltariel spoke happily, "Not much earlier you were at my throat. Now you invite me to break bread with you. You are interesting… Talion. Perhaps I have been fighting on my own for too long. Knowing someone is there beside you… it was comforting. Farewell. We will meet again."

The Elf bowed lightly and vanished into the darkness of the night. She would run across the breadth of Núrn, tracking the Nazgul when it next appeared.


	17. The Battle of Thaurband and the Slaver

**Chapter Seventeen: The Conquest of Thaurband and the Slave Master**

"Barad-dûr is said to be a land of nightmares, of unspeakable evil and darkness that no light can pierce. Yet, for the people of Núrn, it is not the far-off fortress they fear. It is the abomination that is Thaurband. The slave city is where men go to die. Not in flesh, but in spirit. They are branded, broken, and left but a husk of their former selves. After such torture, all that awaits them is a life of slavery at the whip and heel of cruel masters. It should be destroyed. All of it." – _Queen Marwen speaking to Talion_

* * *

"Welcome Overlord Bruz to the fortress of Morn, home to Lord Talion and myself."

Ursa's hands were stretched out as she welcomed her fellow Overlord. She stood atop the stairs of her fortress with her warchiefs surrounding her. Behind his hulking form, Bruz's own captains and warchiefs stood in attendance. The time had come for both armies to again work together. A grand army would be needed to lay siege to Thaurband, a fortress whose fortifications outmatched those of the fortress on Carnán and Fort Morn. Its walls were said to be made of black iron with bladed spikes forged upon every part of it. None ever escaped the slave city, and none entered without permission. However, Talion and Ursa had devised a strategy to avoid the lengthiness of a siege.

"It's an honor to fight alongside the Witch Queen. Hope to see some more fire real soon. I'm looking forward to smelling some roasted Orc."

Ursa said, "There will be no shortage of flame. This battle has been delayed long enough. As we did nothing, hundreds more tribesmen were enslaved. If we are victorious, we can change the fates of thousands."

Bruz said, "There are Orc there too. Many Orc that didn't get cozy with the tribes or angered the wrong chieftain were sent there. If you free them, they'll join you, no doubt."

"It's still hard to believe. Growing up in Udûn, Orcs were sometimes made indentured servants or prisoners for crimes. Yet not even Lord Sauron sought to enslave them so utterly. We were made soldiers of war, but not caged like animals. This Overlord… Ul-Khan is a monster. Justice must be dealt upon him."

"That's what I like to hear. Looking forward to wrestling with him. He's a black war troll, bred to lead armies. Not as strong as Az-Dem, son of Rogash, but dangerous all the same."

"Rogash, the lieutenant of the Witch King in the conquest of Arnor?"

"You know your history little lady. Yeah, that's his son, alright."

She answered, "Talion described a grand war troll at the gates of Minas Ithil. I am sure it was Az-Dem who served as the head of the Legion of Darkness. We will face him one day. It is inevitable."

The troll said, "Well, in any case, Ul-Khan is hailed amongst the strongest troll in Núrn."

Ursa rose a playful eyebrow and asked, "Bruz, I thought you said you were the strongest?"

"I will be once I split his head open."

She said, "Very good. I'll be counting on you in this battle."

"And on that, I will deliver, lass."

* * *

From the island of Carnán, a small fleet of ships departed. Yet most legions now rested at Fort Morn. It was here the main army would disembark. They would sail down the sea until anchoring themselves by the coast of Thaurband. Ursa's armies would march the gulf and await their brothers. On both sides, the armies would take Thaurband. First, the coastal raids would take smaller fortresses and overthrow the officers there. Talion would be among them to commandeer the minds and armies of several warchiefs. They would then slip past the wall, sabotaging the defenses. Next, Bruz and Ursa would come to fortify the army. He would lead the legion he had sailed to Fort Morn and she would command an army of four thousand. Altogether, the Bright Lord had sent six thousand Uruk to take Thaurband. In the dark fortress, at least two thousand Uruk dwelled, with perhaps another thousand occupying the area around it. Again, Talion outnumbered them, but he knew Sauron's central legions outnumbered his ten to one. He would need to take many Orc alive to fortify his ranks.

* * *

The Slave City was a sight that none in Núrn sought to look upon. Unlike most buildings in Núrn, this one was built completely by Orc. Its construction was crude, mining an entire mountain to build its obsidian-colored walls and endless spires that lay upon them. It was shaped like a star with its walls stretching forward into blades. Its foundations were angled upwards so that a second level stood far above the first. In the center of Thaurband was its palace, built within a tower that seemed to reach the heavens. The entire fortress spanned the breadth of a mountain, with enough room to fit Fort Morn three times within its walls. Even so, it no longer had room to spare, and so buildings were scattered outside of it. The fortress had grown into a massive city with dozens of prisons and camps operating about the mighty keep. The mountains behind were stripped of their valuable ore and the earth was robbed of its green roots. Instead, crops of corn and barley were planted to feed the population. Black smoke poured out from Thaurband, billowing into the storm clouds up above. The air was of toxic fumes, pollution from endless industry. It reeked of corpses and defecation. Ringing through one's ears were the cries of the weak sent to suffer and die as they built the machines of war. Many were sent away to mills, foundries, and slave camps where they would craft, dig, and farm. Others would remain in Thaurband to construct its latest structures. Always, the whip was upon them and the dungeons were filled with cries of victims. Bodies of the sick and weary were stacked in huge piles and fed to the wolves. As the living grew old, the bodies of the dead no longer terrified them. Rather, they came to envy the dead. Only the dead could escape Thaurband.

In the great tower of the dark fortress, the Overlord was seated on a throne of bones. Ul-Khan the Slave-Master hid away here, locked behind his impenetrable gate. He was an Orc with shoulders broader than Bruz. His face was ancient with cracks and scars from countless battles. He wore armor of black, painted with the bones of his victims. His helm had a visor that obscured his fading grey eyes, and metal horns were grafted onto it. They were angled upwards and forwards like both a crown and the horns of a bull. By his side, his Uruk-Hai guard neither stirred nor spoke. They wore black veils that obscured their features. At his feet, were naked prisoners whose foot tendons had been severed, tongues torn out, and eyes plucked from their sockets. They were not bound in chains for they had lost hope long ago. They were but his dogs now. Slowly, he had shaved that life away. For each punishment, something was taken from them in hopes they would no longer be human. To live, they would grovel at his feet and hope for a meal. However, today he found no amusement in playing with his toys. Word had reached him of the invaders.

"What madness is this? That a man and a half-Orc would lead them? They come for my precious stock, for my riches… This I will not allow."

The Overlord looked to his advisor, a gangly, grey Orc hidden behind a hood.

To him, Ul-Khan ordered, "Seal the gates. Have the Warchiefs fight to the death to keep it. Oh… one last thing… send the slaves to defend the walls. Tell them that the one brings me the head of the Ranger or his officers will be set free."

He grinned widely, showing his black, rotting teeth soaked in wine and meat from his last meal. At his feet, the pale slaves trembled and despaired. Hope had been taken from them long ago, just as it had for all those branded and chained.

* * *

Talion gazed up at the storm clouds that erupted over him. He heard the crack of thunder that followed a strike of lightning. Soon the rainclouds would pour down upon the battlefield, blinding them and washing away the blood and filth. His eyes turned to the keep off of the coast where slave and merchant ships were gathered. He would take this port and establish a foothold, just as the Bright Lord had commanded.

Talion said, "They are counting on us… the freedom of thousands rests on our shoulders."

The Bright Lord answered, "You must not concern yourself with them. This battle will not be easy. Focus on slaying the Slave-Master. Their freedom will follow."

Talion said, "That is not enough. Not a single slave will die if I can help it."

The Wraith said, "Do not blind yourself. You cannot hope to save everyone in this war. Do not let our failure at Minas Ithil cloud your judgement. We came here to conquer, not to liberate. If you veer from that path, all may be lost."

"How can you think such a thing? Have you no compassion for them?"

"They will be free. Is that not compassionate enough?"

"Not for me. My course is not simply of a conqueror. Not merely of an avenger. The freedom and survival of my people… of Middle Earth. That has always been my promised course."

"Humph."

* * *

Three days now passed. Hundreds of Orcs on both sides lay dead. The battle for the port had been won by Talion, as had the army on the plains of Thaurband. He now controlled the chieftain and a legion of additional Uruk. For now, he awaited the army of his Overlords. To take Thaurband, he would need all of them.

* * *

On the fourth day, Ursa arrived with her officers and an army of bloodthirsty Uruk. She saw Talion's army positioned on the battlefield. The enemy was sending down a rain of arrows and oil-drenched stones laced with fire. The ranger had not yet fired back. Something had shaken him.

"My love," said Ursa, "You have done well. The battle is half won."

He said to her, "There are slaves in the enemy ranks. On the wall, I saw them firing down on us."

The Queen spoke somberly, "How cruel of him. I will instruct my Orc to not slay any prisoners."

Talion said, "I will send out a command to them all."

He stretched out his hand and said, "By my command, you will not kill a slave nor a prisoner."

The Warchiefs and the dominated Orcs all received the command. A brief order that burned into their minds, vague and simplistic like those issued to the Nazgul by Lord Sauron. The order would soon spread throughout the ranks. Even Ursa, disgusted by his power, admitted to herself that it was quite useful in relaying such matters.

Talion then said, "I will deal with the slaves on the wall."

Ursa said, "We need not waste the lives of our soldiers. Carnán has bestowed another blessing upon us. We gained her favor by winning her the island. She now sends a greater faction to liberate her borders."

"'Greater' you say? How many has she sent?" asked the Gravewalker.

"Enough to breech the gate. A pack of mighty Graug that need neither sleep nor meal."

Talion looked over her shoulder as the titans made of vine and tree approached them. Each step shook the ground violently, stirring his ranks with fear. One of the forest Graug approached the Witch Queen.

The voice of Carnán spoke, "We will wipe way this filth, those who have desecrated this land and cursed it."

Ursa bowed and said, "Thaurband will be a slave city no more. You have my word."

"On pain of death, I will hold you to it. Now, speak your order… She-Orc."

The Witch Queen said, "Send your Graug to break down the gate of the lower city. Conceal their wooden cores from the fires they spew down. Your leaves and vines will act as a shield."

Carnán answered, "The gate will break. The machines of war cannot match the will of the earth. It will weather all things."

* * *

The siege raged on for another six hours. The ranger disarmed and captured the prisoners atop the wall. Meanwhile, the gate of metal was soon broken from the mighty fist of the Graug. The rain poured down upon the army, setting on them heavier by the minute. It washed out the fires and shielded Carnán's minions from the enemy's oil. As for Ursa, she knew it would weaken her, but only a little. She sent in her legions, led by Bruz, to take the lower ring. Her army poured in and took one level after another hour. Now, nightfall was upon them.

"Charge!" shouted Ursa.

She rode in with her cavalry into the lower ring of the slave city. Her horsemen would be at a disadvantage on the downward slope, but she wanted horses to conceal her approach. Inside, she was blinded by the black smoke of industry. The scent made her stomach coil up. For a second, a dark thought entered her mind. She wished to summon her fire, and with it, to wipe away the city entirely, to turn its evil memories into ash. It would be left a pure and beautiful thing. Ursa immediately threw away the thought, disgusted by even considering it. After all, in Thaurband, there was only one who she wished to kill.

Soon, her cavalry clashed with the enemy ranks. They encircled the enemy, pushing them towards the weapons of her legion. Her horsemen slashed at any stragglers that tried to break from the main ranks. As for Ursa, she set a row of enemy Orcs on fire and summoned a wall of fire so that they could not retreat.

Soon, the enemy's Caragor riders were upon her. As the wolves of Thaurband beset her, her eyes turned to a Caragor as it pounced on one of her guards. The horse whinnied as the Caragor sunk its claws into its back and took up the rider by the throat. Ursa's heart stopped in fear, thinking it was Hallas. However, she saw him in his silver armor riding towards a lance dug into the soil. He reached down and plucked it out. He aimed it forward and threw it upon the armored wolf. The Caragor let out a yelp and fell over dead at his hand.

Ursa now saw a war captain riding up to her on a large Caragor wearing plated, Mordor armor. He was a dark green, hairless Orc with a pudgy body and tribal armor. In his hand was a halberd of considerable length.

"You!" he roared, "Stop burning up my Caragor! You know how hard they are to catch? Wait… you're the stinkin' she-Orc traitor! Ul-Khan is awaiting you. You'll be joining his dogs at the foot of his throne. It looks like you've lost one eye, so another shouldn't be any trouble. I'll send you to him personally when I break-AAAGGGH!"

Ursa's fiery eyes seemed cold as she sent another arrogant fool ablaze.

"Come!" said Ursa to her units, "Drive them back to the gate!"

* * *

Meanwhile, the ranger was dueling for control of an enemy square, amongst the enemy's barricades. He struggled desperately, not because he faced a great orc, but because he fought the innocent. All around him, slaves were swinging clumsily at him, hoping to win their freedom.

Talion said, "I have come to free you! Stay your blade!"

The slave said, "No one can kill the master. I won't go back! I won't go back to the pits!"

He swung madly again. Talion grabbed him by the wrist and kneed him hard in the gut. Talion then took his sword and held the man hostage by the throat.

He said, "You have been deceived. I know you are afraid. I know you lost hope. But you were men once… proud men! Would you really slay a ranger of Gondor? Would you join forces with Mordor? I cannot believe it to be true. I will not."

He moved the sword and tossed the man forward, sending him plunging into the mud. The ranger wiped away the hair that was sticking to his face. His skin was frozen and clammy from the endless downpour. The ground had longed turned to mud and his boots plunged into several inches of water. The rain season was upon them. All of Núrn would soon be flooded.

"I will not kill you, brother," said Talion.

He sighed and dropped his sword to the ground. He then dropped his shattered dagger as well. He stretched out his arms and faced the slaves now.

Talion said, "The gate is open. My Orc have not slain a single one of you. Leave now. Escape if you must. Or remain here and fight by my side. Right now, we march for the Overlord's palace. His doom is at hand."

Talion pleaded, "You may choose your destiny this day. That is what it means to be free."

The ranger took up his sword, and dashed away towards the inner gate. Behind him, the prisoners began to comprehend his meaning. Some wept, falling onto their knees. Shame and fear overtook them knowing they had forsaken their pride or rather, had it taken from them. For others, their minds fell to rage and hate. They took up blades and followed after him, seeking the blood of the taskmaster.

* * *

At midnight, the second ring was under the control of the Bright Lord. The Graug now battered against the palace wall, but it proved fruitless.

Ursa said, "It is plated in Adamant. It will hold for days before the foundations loosen."

Hallas asked, "What then my lady?"

The Witch Queen's eyes turned mischievous and she said, "Bring the barrels."

* * *

Two weeks ago…

"You have done well darling," said Ursa.

She looked down on the map that Talion had produced. A week prior he had traveled alone to Thaurband to scout it. He had brought parchment to ink down the layout of the castle. However, the inner ring proved too dangerous with hundreds of scouts and archers on guard. As such, he relied on spies under his control. Six months ago, during their peaceful time in Núrn, Ursa had Talion send branded Orcs to Thaurband. They slipped into ranks sent from Udûn and remained there. Some became guards, others architects, and some worked in the palace. These had all traced down what they had learned. Now Talion met privately with them and learned of the innerworkings of Thaurband. After his mission was over, he brought Ursa a schematic of the throne room.

Talion told Ursa, "Indeed, I did. I cannot speak of the horrors I witnessed there. Thaurband should be destroyed quickly."

Ursa's eye searched about the charts for a weakness. Ur-Khan was a notorious coward as much as he was a fearsome warrior when cornered. To avoid a lengthy siege, she sought a swift path to victory.

At last, she found something of use. A backdoor, not uncommon in sealed thrones. They typically led to a passage that ended on a remote section of the wall. Such escapes were used only for the Overlord. The door was high above the ground and was joined with a narrow bridge leading down to the city. Furthermore, it seemed the Overlord had constructed features during the palace's creation to ensure he could remain there for weeks. It had access to water, kitchens, and supplies. Even more, she saw small openings drawn at the top of the wall. No doubt, they were tunnels for air to pour in and out of. Otherwise, he would suffocate in his throne room after a week or so.

The Overlord's eyes lit up in excitement upon finding such a weakness. Ursa hoped to smoke them out, but sending tinder and fire down into the throne room would be a slow, cumbersome process. She wished to force open the gate as soon as possible. It was then she remembered one of her earlier schemes. The topic of smoke had reminded her of the time Talion used smoke to subdue a hive of Morgul flies, a weapon that won her the throne of Warchief several years ago.

She said, "I know how to open the throne room. The weapon we need is abundant here. Yes, the Orcs brought them over from Udûn accidentally a decade ago."

Talion said, "No riddles now. What have you decided upon?'

"The Morgul Fly. All Orcs fear them. When their nests are disturbed, thousands will emerge and sting their guest. The bites turn into nasty boils that last for weeks. Too many stings and even a fully-grown Uruk can die. The Morgul flies are relentless. If their prey does not flee, they will continue to bite again and again. Even better, they need little to eat and live far longer than a common fly."

Talion said, "Morgul flies... I see! We will send them through the air chambers. The only problem is the throne room is massive. We would need dozens of hives. Even then, how will we keep them from turning on us? We cannot simply drop the hive into their midst."

She said, "We must experiment to find that answer. Celebrimbor has controlled animals before. The mind of a fly should be easy enough. If so, he may control tens of thousands if he wishes."

Talion said, "It is possible. We could also send spiders. I can order the Ungol captain to send her brood. Thousands of smaller Ungol could pour down upon them. I'm sure they would enjoy feasting on the flies afterwards."

Ursa said, "This is by far the strangest plan I've come up with. However, to go up against Lord Sauron, one needs to be a little mad."

* * *

Ursa and Talion now watched as a caravan of wagons filled with barrels approached. Each barrel contained a hive, ready to turn into a frenzy the second they were set free. Captured by smoke, Talion had then branded each one, using his power to take dozens at a time. It was still a task that took many days, but he succeeded. The flies would only respond to the simplest orders, but it would be enough.

Bruz now walked up to them and said, "Ah… the bugs was it? Nasty plan. Even I wouldn't do something that cruel. They… um… they won't go biting us, will they? I get rashes easily."

Ursa said, "They are allies. Prepare your men to stop anything that appears from those gates. I will ride to his secret passage. If he shows his face there, I will turn him to ash."

With her, Ursa brought two Ologs, and an armored company of royal guard.

She said, "Talion, this Ur-Khan is a coward, but I believe he will confront you. Be careful."

He answered back, "It is you I am worried about. What if your fires cannot consume him quick enough?"

She said, "That is why I do not ride alone."

The Witch Queen continued, "Strike true my love. Let justice be done upon him."

Ursa looked up to the air chambers. They were small holes at the very top of the palace walls that no latter could hope to reach. Not even Talion could slip through such narrow crevices. However, for the creeping creatures of the land, it was a simple task. Ursa did not relish in battle as others did, but she felt a sense of pleasure knowing the Overlord would not be ready for what was coming. She smiled and then rode away with her battalion.

* * *

"Ha!" shouted Ur-Khan, "Listen to them. Even their mighty Graug can't break through. Hammer away all you like. I can survive for months in here. By then, the Witch King's army will be marching on your doorstep."

He continued, "And I'll have my trophies. She'll make good sport, the one they called the Weakling. I suppose I won't need all of you, will I?"

He cackled and grabbed hold of one of his slaves by the throat. She writhed and screamed in terror as his mighty hand began to crush her throat.

"You're all skin and bones. Still good enough for a snack."

The troll's jaws opened up as he took in the poor woman's head. Right then, his mouth froze. He dropped her to the ground and looked at the ceiling. The poor slave squirmed in surprise, wondering what had stayed his hand.

"You hear that?" he asked.

The Orc heard a rustling sound outside the throne room. Suddenly, the light in the room went out. Not the torches, but the small rays that were pouring in from the top of the chamber. The rustling vanished, and in its place, was a deafening buzz. Black clouds began to engulf the room.

"Flies!" shouted an Orc, "Argh!"

The room was filled with the infernal buzzing of their wings. The flies moved like a storm, each time encircling a victim. The Orcs would run and flail about to no avail. The flies landed upon them and dug into their skin. Each time, they bit in a venom that stung like a hot needle. Soon enough flies had poured in to blot out the light entirely. The Orcs swung madly with their swords and ran for cover.

The great troll roared in pain as the flies bit at his eyes and face. They struggled to bite through his thick hide, so they began to aim for his softer features. Soon, they began to crawl into his armor and search for any soft flesh to bite into.

"Curse that she-Orc!" he said, "Bring me fire!"

He reached down for his rug and drew it over his head to stave them off a bit. Below, his slaves remained curled up and motionless. However, the flies did not bite them. The troll noticed this and let out a growl. He stamped down and kicked away one of his prisoners against the wall. Suddenly, he felt his leg beginning to tickle. He gazed down carefully and saw that spiders, about an inch in length, were crawling up it. Before he could react, he felt a great set of legs wrap around his face. He bellowed out in fear as the Ungol pounced on him and bit into his flesh. The stinger on its thorax was extremely thin and managed to slip between the cracks of his hide. He quickly tossed it to the ground and smashed it into pieces. As the flies overwhelmed him, he roared out and sent a wave of energy form his body. Red sparks hovered about him. The Morgul Flies upon him were knocked off and fell dead at his feet. However, hundreds more were ready to take their place.

"Help us! Help us!"

His goblins were in panic. Already several smaller ones were dead.

"Keep that gate closed!" roareed Ul-Khan.

He began to dash away towards his other chambers, only to see hundreds of spiders were crawling out of them. In fact, rats, snakes, and other creatures were flooding the other rooms. These were green, made of the same plant material as the beasts that had breached the outer walls. Nature itself had conspired against him.

"Open the doors!" shouted a captain. Ul-Khan bellowed in fury and picked the defiant captain up by the head. He then took him and smashed him against the throne, turning him into little more than black paste.

He said, "Keep those doors shut boys!"

However, the Orcs no longer feared him. They desperately unlatched the iron bars on the gate. An Olog now bashed through them, sending the doors crashing open. The defenders fled outside and into the arrows of the enemy. As they tried desperately to flee, they were skewered upon spears and halberds. Hundreds of enemy Orcs now emerged to face Talion's forces.

The ranger said, "Oh? A bit of insects was all it took to win? You are a thin-skinned one, Ul-Khan."

The Black Orc marched out and bore his teeth. Beside him, were two large blue-skinned Olog, as well as his other defenders. The armored Overlord was wielding four great chains tied to iron orbs. Each ball was the size of a man's head. The ranger furrowed his brows. It would be a difficult weapon to face as he was unfamiliar with it. As his eyes scanned his enemy, he saw the war troll had a cleaver tied to his hip, long enough to slice a man in half in a single swipe.

The Wraith said, "He will try to keep us at bay. We must get in close."

Talion said, "That can be arranged."

Bruz now marched forward and said, "I'm here for you, Bright Lord. Let's take this old troll together."

"Bruz the Chopper!" shouted Ur-Khan, "You've let your victories get to your head. I've lost this battle, but I will not go down until I've killed every last one of you. You should not have bet your greatest commanders here. Your army will be left without its heads. It will wither and die."

"Our conquest has only just begun," said the Wraith and Ranger.

Right then, a great forest Graug set upon him. Its hand came crashing down on the Olog and sent him hurdling to the ground. The pack of Olog immediately set upon the first forest Graug. They tackled it by the legs. The large black troll stood up and held it by the stomach. He then reached for the cleaver and hacked into one of the Graugs wooden legs. Talion could see the blade was glowing a feint red, each swing drained the life from the Graug's plant fibers. It was a blighted weapon cursed by the Nazgul. Carnán's leg fell apart and it keeled over onto its back. The Overlord ran up it chest and hacked apart its head. The ranger was left utterly stunned, never having seen any enemy best a Graug so quickly.

The ranger said, "A curse… Just like the chosen. Do not let that blade cut you!"

Ul-Khan commanded, "Take down these Graug, boys. These warlords are mine."

He let out another deep bellow like a wild beast and charged forward. Talion fired one of his silver arrows at it. It bashed against his helm, but the Olog continued forward. He grabbed hold his chains and spun them about. Talion ducked low beneath the ball and chain as they cut through the air. From the side, Bruz immediately rammed the Overlord. He swung his club down at Ul-Khan's exposed stomach. The Olog blocked it by holding Bruz's wrist. Bruz's other trolls now beset him, holding him by the legs and arms. Bruz pulled back his arm and prepared a killing blow for the Olog's head. Suddenly, the Overlord roared out and sent his magic about. The Olog were immediately beset by Sauron's sorcery and a secondary effect of the killing curse. It blasted them backwards a dozenl feet and sent terror through their minds. They moaned and clutched at their heads, trembling like infants. Yet Bruz fought against it, succumbing to raw fury. He swung his mace forward and clashed against the cleaver of his opponent. Talion immediately rolled back and continued to fire arrows. Each one, he imbued with the Wraith's power so that it impacted like the thrust of a mighty spear. However, the black troll paid them no mind.

As the two trolls wrestled, the taller one snapped his jaws forward at Bruz's exposed neck. Bruz sent a left hook at his face that crashed against the bottom of his helmet, breaking off one of Ul-Khans teeth. The black troll suddenly dropped his weapon and grabbed Bruz by the throat. With his other arm he went for his leg.

He said, "A gift for you ranger."

Talion's eyes widened in shock as Ul-Khan bore up Bruz onto his shoulders, feeling a sudden chill. His arms trembled from the weight. He lifted the Olog-Hai up above his head, the muscles on his arm bulging as he did. Bruz roared in anger as his opponent tossed him forward thirty feet. The ranger's position was overcome with an explosion of dust and rubble as his lieutenant came crashing down. Yet Talion had instinctively fired arrow at the Slave Master's head. He reappeared and slashed down. The blade crashed hard down as Talion scrambled on his back.

The ranger slid his sword between the plates on the Overlord's collarbone and began to freeze the troll's flesh. Ul-Khan roared again and sent out his crimson shield. The ranger had felt its summoning, and so hurdled himself off of his opponent. He felt the wall of terror hit him, blasting him off his feet and sending his sword flying. He grit his teeth as he saw the already fearsome Olog turn into a fiery demon in his mind. Yet in that moment, he felt the Bright Lord's hand on his shoulder. As he recovered, the ranger reeled to the side. One of the iron balls came crashing down at his side, breaking through the stone. As they dueled in the rain, the ranger slipped upon the wet stones as he struggled to grab hold of his sword. It was only a foot away. His fingertips now touched the grip.

Talion saw the iron ball come hurdling past him. Believing he had avoided the strike, he dropped his guard, not seeing Ul-kHan curve his strike. Suddenly, the chain was at his stomach. It knocked him off his feet like the kick of a horse. He gasped as he felt it bruise his ribs and knock the air out of his lungs.

The ranger felt the troll's palm grab hold of his chest. Talion immediately rose his arms out and summoned the Elven bow. Ul-Khan grunted as he felt the bow appear and push back his grip. The ranger drew out an arrow and aimed it at the eyes of the troll. The slaver grinned as he squeezed close his hand to crush his opponent into paste. The ranger's twisted his bow downward and fired off his shot, landing at the troll's feet. The Wraith appeared with his glave in hand and stabbed it into the troll's stomach. Ul-Khan bellowed. His chains could not defend him at so close a range. The ranger pulled back on the glave to inflict a mortal blow, only to find Ul-Khan's hand wrapped around him. The ranger gasped in terror as the troll sent him slamming into the ground. Had he squeezed his grip or sent Talion flying, the ranger would have died.

Talion lay unconscious, his body battered by the war troll. His armor was crushed inwards, but his chainmail had somehow saved him. From above, a great foot prepared to stamp him to death. Right then, Bruz charged forward and tackled the black troll. The huge troll planted his feet and stopped the berserker's advance. From the side, the Bruz's Olog appeared and beat him with their clubs. The black troll punched down and stunned Bruz. He blocked one of the clubs with his cleaver and then swung forward into the thick hide of his enemy. Bruz and his trolls dueled him heatedly as the mighty Olog took on their blows and send powerful punches in return. As Ul-Khan kicked one back into the wall of his palace, he slashed his cleaver across its exposed throats. He swung again and again at the poor Olog, until its neck dislodged. The second, he grabbed by the throat and slammed into the cobblestone path. His cleaver dug deep into its skull and down came his iron foot.

Bruz said, "You're going to pay for that. Those were mine."

Ul-Khan replied, "I think I will enjoy killing you most of all."

He reached down for his chains and pulled them up. Bruz lunged forward and bashed him in the head. The great troll stumbled backwards, his skull slightly cracked from the concussion. Bruz swung again. In this moment, Ul-Khan found his blade caught deep in the hide of a slain troll. Without his cleaver, the black troll could not properly defend himself. He was being beaten down with each swing. He collapsed to the side and onto his knees. Bruz immediately prepared a killing blow to split his skull. Yet the battle was not over. Ul-Khan reached down and battered the corpse of a dead Orc against Bruz's face. The armored body knocked his head to the side. Ul-Khan then stepped backwards another meter. From here, he freely sent his chains flying through the air. They crashed into Bruza's ribs, breaking several. He roared out in pain as the chains wrapped around his throat. Ul-Khan stepped behind him, reaching for his chains, and began to tug at them. Bruz struggled in vein as his foe crushed his throat. The other troll pressed his foot against his back as he tore at his neck.

"Your spine or your neck?" Which will break first?"

"Your weapon" said Talion.

His sword came crashing down onto the chain, stabbing between the gaps. He immediately turned it to ice and froze those infernal chains. With another swing, the iron rings shattered. The war troll roared in frustration. He immediately delivered a brutal kick, but it missed the ranger. Instead, it sent the broken Bruz down into the earth.

Talion said, "Leave him. Your business is with me."

"Bright Lord…" muttered Bruz as he lost consciousness.

The ranger continued, "This ends now, slaver. A shame you will not live to see all your kingdom undone."

The Olog reached down and grabbed hold of Bruz's club.

"I still breathe man-filth. I will kill every last one of you before I do. I have lived a good life, a life of pleasure and victory. I fought when I needed to, and I hid when it was best. You have taken everything from me and left me with nothing. You freed me. Allow me to do the same and ease your passing!"

He charged forward at Talion. The ranger was shocked by the speed of his run. He rolled to the side. However, the troll sent his palm out, knocking the ranger onto his back. Talion's Orcs were immediately sent crashing about as Ul-Khan charged through them. The smaller Orcs died immediately from it, as if a battering ram had crashed into them. The Orcs quickly began to spear at him and fire arrows. The troll swung his club wide and knocked all of them off their feet. The ranger felt blood shower down upon his face. Their armor meant nothing against his unbridled strength. Ul-Khan picked one up and sent him crashing through the ranks. Another he impaled upon his own spear. In a minute, Talion's company was dead.

Talion, for all his disgust, admitted he was among the greatest of all Olog-Hai. If he turned him into an ally, he could lead them to victory. But that was not to be. The ranger had made up his mind. This was to be the slaver's grave. He pulled out his sword and sent blades of ice forward. The great war troll immediately swung his club and shattered them. He charged forward and broke through the frost and ice Talion sent his way. He charged as ice climbed over his body and froze his armor. Talion called upon the ring and sent a great wave of power to knock down his opponents. As it hit him, the troll called upon Sauron whose curse erupted about him, thwarting the ranger's might. Both waves of air blasted each other, unleashing a hurricane. With a club in hand and his cleaver in another, Ul-Khan made his final stand. He spun around like a whirlwind. Talion dared not block a single swing lest he lose his sword and be split in two. Instead, he danced about and evaded each strike. Like thunder, the troll shattered the earth. Talion fired an arrow up the side of the palace's wall. He ran up it and spun around it like an Elven assassin. As he did, the Wraith took form and fired an arrow down. He reappeared right above the troll and drew out all the power he could muster. His glave came down upon the top of Ul-Khan's head and crashed into it. A great blast echoed through the coast. Talion's legion fell to the ground as a mighty wind hit them. The black troll let out a deep groan and began to stagger. His arms flailed about as he lost balance. Then his strength left him. He fell over onto his stomach. The ranger stood atop his fallen body and reached down to dominate him. The branding was difficult, but Ul-Khan could not resist so easily while his asleep.

"You've defeated him," said a slave from the doorway, "You've defeated the master."

Talion said, "His reign is at an end. You are free."

The Gravewalker fell onto his knees and took a deep breath. He wondered if he would need to be reborn from the damage he had taken. For now, he was racked by pain and exhaustion. In the end, it had taken much to fell the black troll.

From behind, he heard the quaking steps of his Overlord approach. Bruz, both bleeding and bruised, bowed before him.

He said, "I… uh.. I am in your debt, master. I will gladly die for you."

Talion said, "I was careless. I owe you as well."

Both turned as they heard the hooves of horses briskly clamoring towards them. Leading them, was the Witch Queen clad in her draconian armor and sinister mask. She quickly pulled it off and looked upon her ranger and his glorious victory.

She said, "I came as soon as word reached me. Are you all right, Talion?"

"I… I'm not sure. I think so."

Ursa swiftly dismounted upon his words. She ran to him and leaned her forehead against his. Talion immediately felt his shoulders give away and the pain numb. He shut his eyes in turn. Feeling her there, restored his strength. Soon, his breathing became calm. He realized the curse had been eating at him, just as the Nazgul's had. Ursa's body, cold and weak as it was, warmed him. The ranger opened his eyes now. His silver irises glistened as he gazed up at her adoringly. Ursa's gaze was soft and affectionate with him.

She said, "It is over."

Talion now drew himself up to his feet. His steel gaze returned to him.

He said, "Not entirely. We must decide what to do with him."

The black troll was now awake. He remained on his knees as Talion commanded. He was panting heavily and bleeding from every orifice.

Ursa said, "He deserves death."

Talion winced hearing her say that. It did not sound like the same woman who was raising their child and seeking peace between the races. However, he could not object.

Talion said, "I agree. He has doomed many to a horrible fate all for greed and sadism. He should be tortured and enslaved… then executed by those he stamped at his heel."

Ursa said, "A fitting punishment… but we need not be as cruel as he was. Take off his head… here and now. Let this end."

Talion said, "He serves far worse."

She said, "Please do not be cruel."

The ranger then sighed and said, "No. You are right. Fine then. Let's get this over with."

He pulled out his sword and strode towards the defeated Overlord.

The Bright Lord now appeared and blocked his path.

He said, "No. Stay his execution. He is too strong an Olog to execute for revenge. He is already bound to us. He would be a valuable warrior.

Ursa said, "My lord, I agree that he would be useful. Even so, there are plenty of strong Olog to claim, none of which have committed such heinous crimes. The thought of him being in my ranks… is revolting. Lord Celebrimbor, please don't do this."

The Wraith sighed and said, "Very well. However, I will not let such sentiment stop our victory again. Consider this an exception for one whose crimes are to inconceivable to imagine."

She said, "Thank you."

Talion now looked down and the troll. He shivered as the rain drenched him so thoroughly. It dampened his mood and spirit. As he looked upon the troll, he could not find any pity. It was as with Belos. A darkness crept over him that beckoned him to depravity.

He said, "Ul-Khan. You have been judged unworthy of life. For your actions, you deserve an eternity of suffering. Yet my Queen is merciful. I will give you a swift death."

The troll said, "I… I am yours to command. There is no need for this, master."

"Master? Am I your master?"

"Yes. I serve you Bright Lord! Stay your hand and show mercy."

"I am afraid the pleadings of a slave are lost upon me. You of all people should know how cruel masters can be. Die now."

He swung down and into the trolls neck. The Olog began to struggle and fight against the domination. Bruz pressed his foot down on his back to pin him there. Meanwhile, Talion continued to hack through his hide. He swung again and again. In his mind, he saw the slaves he had failed to free. The children sent to die in mines, to suffocate in Mordor's toxic fumes. Those left without food to be eaten by the rats. The newborns whose fates he dared not fathom. He roared out in fury and took the troll's head clean off.

Ursa shut her eyes now as her stomach turned to rot. The ranger looked down at his kill while the Bright Lord strode into the empty throne room. So fell the city of the slaves.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : What a long chapter. Thank you for reading all the way through. I love Shadow of War, but I wish we could have conquered Thaurband in the game.

Some information: An Orc legion typically is made of a 1000 Orc, unlike Roman legions which can contain over 4000. Coming up with population sizes and army sizes can be tricky. In this story, the Witch King had 60,000 Orc brought from Mordor while I had Warchief typically control a small army that consisted of a single legion. Needless to say, the Bright Lord's army in Núrn wound up petty small in comparison. Fortunately, there are many other regions of Mordor to conquer.


	18. The Free and the Heroes' Departure

**Chapter Eighteen: The Realm of the Free and the Heroes' Departure**

Talion wiped clean his sword with a rag, drying off the black blood of the fallen troll. The Witch Queen stood by his side. The ranger's face was hidden behind his rain-soaked locks. Talion let out a deep breath. He felt her fingers intersect with his and clasp him tightly. He felt life here amidst the darkness of this land that sought to send him plummeting into despair.

She said, "It is done."

He answered, "Yes. Yes it is."

From behind, Bruz spoke, "I guess a new Overlord will be needed."

Ursa said, "Bruz! You're injured. Go at once to our medicine woman."

He said, "Ah... it's nothing."

She said, "I will not hear it. Go quickly. That's an order."

"Fine then m'lady," he said, "Can't even savor the victory before I'm off for stitching. Bah."

* * *

Meanwhile, the couple waltzed inside the throne room. It was grand in size with chandeliers and giant ribs of Graug tied to its walls. With such a spacious hall, there was room for hundreds of Orc to seek shelter. Had they not flushed out Ur-Khan and his cronies, it may have taken many months before he surrendered.

Up ahead, the ranger spotted his allies from Cirith Ungol. Hundreds of smaller spiders were standing in something akin to rows. In the front, was the large mother. She lowered her legs and bowed low to her king and queen.

She said, "My lord… did we serve you well?"

He answered, "Indeed you did."

"You are most… gracious."

Ursa now walked forward and tilted her head.

"This is the first I have seen you. You are quite a large thing, aren't you? Thank you for your aid today."

The spider bowed again and said, "Of course… we fed readily… on Orc and… fly."

Ursa asked, "Have you a name, Ungol?"

"Nay… we spider are… without name… we have no need… we know our own…"

Ursa said, "Then might I give you one, for my sake?"

"Yes… I would be… honored."

"Then I shall call you Madargon. In black speech, it means nightshade."

"Madargon? To think… I have a name… Only mother was… given a name… by the two... legged folk. Thank you."

The Witch Queen smiled down at her and said, "No, thank you Madargon. Please continue to be our eyes."

Talion whispered to his wife, "Ursa."

His tone was cold, as if he had lost all his spirit. He ran forward towards the sight that had taken the heart of him. At his feet, were the huddled bodies of the Overlord's dogs. Each man and woman was disrobed, with red scars on their white forms. It had been years since they had seen daylight, save for the small specks that entered the throne room. They shook as their bodies, no more than bones, lay there helplessly.

Talion said, "It is good that he is already dead."

The ranger was trembling. He reached down and grabbed one slave by the face. The slave let out a moan of fear and stumbled backwards as he crawled with his elbows and knees. The ranger took hold of the slave's shoulders and stared directly at his face. As he did, he realized the slave could neither speak nor see. Talion shut his eyes as he let the pain flow through him. His breathing became shaky.

He said, "It is okay. You are with friends. The Slave Master is dead."

The slave shook his head frantically. Talion held him firm.

He said, "It is true! He is dead! He is dead! He shall never return! You are safe now."

The other pale slaves began to move.

One said, "L…libes…tiks….liiiiiaaarrrr…"

The ranger said, "I am sorry for what he has done to you. Truly I am. If you wish, we will take you to the realm of Queen Marwen to be with your people. Or we could bring you to our palace… to be cared for."

Ursa said, "You may remain here with your kin if you like. Thaurband will become a free land. You are welcome here. All are."

The ranger wrapped his arms around the blind slave and said, "Do not despair. You survived. Do not feel shame, not for a moment."

He whispered in his hear, "You were strong."

He felt tears trickle down his shoulder as the slave cried into his chest. The others, those with limbs, began to pull themselves to their feet.

Ursa did not embrace them, lest her claws cause them fear. She called for Hallas and any humans she had brought. They would minister to the slaves. Although her heart was breaking, she felt love for Talion in that moment. His eyes were of kindness, not cruel as they had been with the slave master. She thought it sad that fate had sentenced him to war. As he embraced the slave like a brother, his heart was pouring out before them. In that moment, he was a being of light.

* * *

Bruz sat in his tent. A female Orc was grinding up herbs and transforming them into a medical paste. The troll sighed as he thought about his defeat in the previous battle. However, he remembered his master coming to his rescue. It returned some heart to him.

The goblin told him, "You must rest many weeks. We will set wood and rope to straighten your ribs. I will grind herbs for the pain."

"Bah!" he said, "The pain can go and die for all I care. Just get me patched up."

From the front of his tent, a small hooded goblin appeared.

Bruz's eyes widened with surprise.

The olog turned to the medicine woman and said, "Leave us."

She bowed to the Overlord and quickly scurried out of the room.

"What are you doing here, Twig?" asked the Olog, suddenly looking angry.

"Gaz, Daz, and Baz… they want your help."

"I told them not to show their face around here unless they've changed their minds. So? Are they here in Thaurband?"

"No. They remain on the island. Told me to find you. Listen Bruz, this is our chance! You go slay the ranger while he's all high and mighty from his victory. Then we claim the army for ourselves! The Orc love you! They'll fall in line. For your sake, you must do this. What do you say?"

"That's a load of rubbish! He's my commander now. I ain't some stinking traitor."

"Yes, you are Bruz! You betrayed your Overlord."

"Listen here mate, the Bright Lord saved my life and has been true to his promises. I'm Overlord now. I get to fight in glorious battles. As for my blood brothers, tell them this: you should be here with me. Not plotting behind our backs."

"I take it, that's a 'no' then?"

"Damn right it is."

The goblin messenger sighed and said, "Then I guess we're enemies now."

"Don't say that. Just stay out sight and trouble! No one is gonna care about some Olog bandits."

"They move now to avenge Ugluk. Sorry Bruz."

Bruz growled and said, "You shouldn't have come then. I'll have to tell him about this! Get out of here before someone sees. Go! Scram!"

As the messenger left, he roared out, "Damn fools! Curse them all!"

* * *

The next three days in Thaurband were of madness. As expected of a victory, the Orc held a great feast. Even those that had served the Overlord were invited. Ursa felt uncomfortable with such arrangements, but knew she needed to expand the ranks. Many of the slave drivers would be banished from Thaurband for their crimes, and forced to fight in the front lines of Ursa's army as punishment. Over two thousand of the slaver's orcs had survived the invasion. Most in the inner ring had surrendered upon witnessing the witch's fire, the Bright Lord's ice, and Carnán's beasts. For others, it was seeing the death of their immortal Overlord. Now a new overlord would be chosen from Thaurband's native ranks. For them, a new decree was made that forbade all slavery in Núrn.

In the lower ring, the race of Men were granted their own celebration. They feasted upon ale and salted pork as the three-day celebration commenced. Knowing their captors were dead or banished filled them with glee. For others, they mourned knowing they would never see their families again, those shipped across Mordor's many roads.

* * *

As the celebration came to an end, Ursa and Talion prepared their departure.

"It's a several days' march back to Fort Morn," said the ranger to his wife, "The journey by ship will not go by quickly either."

Ursa said, "I do not know. It sounds terribly exciting, but what if I look below and feint?"

He said, "Since when have you ever been one to feint? Besides, I will harness you in. You can cling to my back and we will soar through the sky. Come now. You will love it. Do you really want to miss out on a chance to fly?"

She said, "Then I shall accompany you."

He said, "Wonderful."

Ursa turned to her Warchiefs and said, "Follow the war plan closely. I will return in one month's time to see if this fortress has been repaired and the people well cared for. Those in my legions must begin their return by dawn."

Bruz said, "Right… leave it to me."

Ursa tilted her head in concern and asked, "Is something wrong, dear Bruz?"

"Oh no. I'm just a bit under the weather… well on account of having my head bludgeoned."

"I hope you will heal well, Overlord. Take care."

She bowed to him and he returned the gesture.

Ursa then turned around. Talion sat atop his saddle, on the back of the crimson drake. The beast remained perfectly still while in his care, tamed by the Wraith's spell.

"This is Atanáro, the drake of noble flame. Named by my companion. Even without the branding, he has come to respect me. He will fly wherever we desire."

The Gravewalker reached down to Ursa and smiled. Ursa appeared utterly enamored by his gesture. Her hand slipped over his. With a firm grip, he hoisted her up into his arms. Her feet slipped into the leather leg restraints at the foot of the harness. Using it as a step, she was able to pull her legs atop the drake's back. She then slipped a belt around her waist.

The ranger said, "Put your arms around me."

Ursa blushed as she pressed her chest onto his firm back. Her hands slipped below his arms and tied around his chest. Her face sunk into his shoulder as she gazed forward. Suddenly, the ranger tugged on the reigns. Atanáro let out a bloodcurdling roar. His folded wings now opened up like a paper fan as the drake revealed its wingspan. He stretched his wings for a moment, and then pulled his drake to its feet. As his wings began to flap, The drake curved back its head, gazing up towards the sun. With a powerful kick, he took to the air. The drake began to dash for a bit before sending one last kick against the earth. He flapped madly all the while. At last, he took flight.

Ursa's eye widened in amazement as she saw the ground shrinking beneath her. She looked down to see her warchiefs looking up at her in awe. The drake's powerful wing muscles continued to lift him higher with each heave of his wings. Atanáro began to turn as Talion steered him to the right. Ursa gasped as she felt herself slipping off. However, she did not fall, tied down by a belt. She clung harder to Talion even as she continued to gaze downward. She could see Thaurband now as it receded. The Orcs appeared no larger than ants to her. Her head twisted to the left and right as she attempted to observe the entirety of the landscape.

Talion said, "What do you think?"

She said, "Amazing… I… hadn't imagined."

He answered, "You haven't seen anything yet."

He pulled the reigns upward and Atanáro began to move his mighty wings once again. He flew hard, climbing higher into the heavens. At last, they reached the blanket of clouds. The drake burst threw them, sending mist atop Ursa's pale skin. The Overlord gasped as she gazed about her to see a thousand clouds laid out at her feet. Tears began to trickle out of her eyes.

 _I never thought I would see such a thing. So far above the world, there's only beauty. Pure and untampered. How have I lived without knowing this beauty?_

The drake continued to ascend. As he did, the mounds of clouds turned into a blanket. Ursa could no longer tell them apart. It was as if a white blanket of snow was at her feet, just as she had seen in her first year in Núrn. No, this was somehow even more extraordinary. Ursa took a second to wipe away the droplets that were on her shoulder.

 _I see. So the clouds are made of rain. Do they pour themselves dry to nurture our lands?_

"Hang on, Ursa," said Talion, "We're descending."

He pressed the reigns forward. Atanáro now folded his wings so that he was shaped as an arrowhead. Ursa screamed in fear as she fell to the earth. Her nails dug at her husband's armor. The drake quickly broke through the clouds and appeared over the blue sea of Núrn. Ursa turned to see Thaurband's coast now far in the distance. She then looked over at the seas, where the island of Carnán lay in the distance.

"Thank you Talion," she said.

"Of course," said the ranger, "I knew you would love it."

Her arms wrapped around his back again. This time she leaned on the top of his back and gazed happily to the horizon. Every minute, the drake would flap his wings, sending a boom of thunder through her ears and a great wind away from them. She remained awake for several hours, until at last the thrilling ride through the clouds became a place of peace for her. Her eyes fell into a blissful sleep.

* * *

Fort Morn's guards blew the horn as their lords returned to them. While the army made the long march home or sailed to the friendly port, the Witch Queen and her ranger rode atop a crimson drake. Atanáro's great wings stretched out as he landed down on the road before the castle's gate. The drake shook his neck to warm his tired muscles. He carefully folded his wings neatly and settled down. Talion picked up his lover into his arms and dropped off of the side. Ursa yelped in fear as she fell down about ten feet. The ranger laughed as her arms clung tightly to him.

He teased, "The brave Overlord of Núrn."

Ursa gasped and pouted. She said, "I beg your pardon. I have had little time to grow accustomed to falling from a great height."

He said, "Relax my love. I have you."

She said, "Well… the ride was wonderful. I never imagined I would be up amongst the clouds, so close to the stars."

She beamed at him and kissed him upon the lips.

The husband and wife then reentered their home where their daughter would be waiting for them.

Up ahead, they saw Rag'luf, Ursa's closest and most favored of servants.

The small blue Orc bowed and said, "My heart grows full. You have returned my lady. Shall I draw you a bath?"

"Please do, I stink of drake," she answered.

Ursa's eye quickly looked over the goblin's shoulder where she saw a figure running down the steps of the palace. She realized it was the figure of Orison she saw racing towards them.

"Father," said Ursa, "The Slave City is taken."

He kissed her upon the forehead and embraced her.

He said, "I am the proudest father in all of Middle Earth. My daughter has freed our people."

"I could not have won it without Talion and Bruz's aid, nor the loyalty of my Orc."

Talion said, "An Overlord needs not be so humble. In any case, Ul-Khan was a formidable foe. If not for my armor, I would be in any worse shape."

Ursa asked, "What do you mean? Are you hurt, Talion?"

"A few broken ribs and some bruises. Your medicine woman already patched me up."

She said, "Then you must go and rest at once! I will send the doctor. Now I feel guilty for holding on so tightly."

The ranger said, "It barely hurts. If it were truly worse, I would have… No, I… I think it's better this way."

He spoke, "I feel mortal."

Ursa's gaze became grave as she heard him admit it aloud. It was not a subject that they often spoke of, even with the necessity of it all.

"Talion, does it trouble you?"

He answered, "Even if I am to resurrect, death stings. It bites at the soul. If I could, I would stay as I am, and grow old with you two."

Ursa said, "I wish for the same. Of course, Orcs can live to be over five hundred. As a half-Orc, I may live to be two hundred, and our daughter will love a long life as well. Do not let it trouble you so."

Talion said, "A mortal life is a beautiful thing."

"It is when spent with you," said Ursa, "Now off to bed."

The ranger bowed and strode past the father and daughter.

Orison said, "You have him well and disciplined."

"Do I henpeck him too much?" she asked.

"Oh no. I've known a few wives that turned their husbands grey at thirty."

Ursa said, "Father… I meant to ask you something. Talion and I have plans to send Inga to the Island of Carnán. I have already sent word to the Orc there to begin constructiing a haven for Orc and Man. I call it Amdir. I believe it will be ready in three months' time. The Spirit of Carnán has agreed to protect Amdir, to protect Inga. Talion and I… we are leaving for a time. Setting off for war. I had hoped that her grandfather would be by her side."

"So you intend to fly away again? I cannot permit such a thing."

"I respect your command," said Ursa, "But as Overlord, I must go."

Her father gravely said, "I see. I suppose such privileges are saved for fathers that were there for their daughters. Even so, I wish you would stay and be with her. Ursa, be with your family!"

"It is for that reason I must go, or I fear our family will never be whole. Father, will you watch over her?"

He said, "I doubt I will be much of a grandfather. However, if you ask it of me, I will watch over her. Better I suppose than to leave her to the nurses."

"Thank you! Thank you so much! If Inga is with you, I know she will be loved. When the enclave is built, I will send a ship for you to sail to Carnán."

"Wait… just a moment… I will watch her, but I cannot agree with this new city. Why not keep her here in Fort Morn? Why take her away to a land ruled by goblins?"

"I will send my handmaids, and I am sure Hallas will go as well. I intend to speak with the farmers. Many are not happy with their land here. Crops grow more fairly on the island. You will be with your people. Even if you weren't, isn't Inga reason enough?"

Orison answered, "Why not take her to Queen Marwen's realm? There is little Orc blood in her. She would be with her people."

Ursa answered, "I do not think the Queen has the power to protect her. Besides, the Orc are her people too."

"Ursa… you must realize she is better off away from the tribes. They are a dangerous folk, even if some are branded."

"Do you think I am dangerous, Father?" she said, "Do you look upon me and see an evil beast?"

"Of course I don't! You are my daughter."

"So that is your answer. I see…"

Her eyes now grew distant from him. She was far off, as if in another world. Her father was troubled as he gazed upon her, but did not know what to say.

At last, the Queen spoke, "I will respect your feelings on this matter, but Inga must go to Núrn. In the end, there is no safer place for her in all of Mordor. The spirit of the forest will watch over her, bring food to you, and slay any invaders. I promise I will send folk from Marwen's tribes to be with you, to be with her."

Orison said, "All right then. Guess I better pack my effects."

She said, "Father… thank you."

He smiled at her once more lovingly, then walked away back towards the castle. His daughter remained there, watching him leave. Her heart was heavy and crushed, but it was accustomed to such feelings.

 _Father, I know the Orc have wronged you. I cannot hold it against you. Even so, I wish it wasn't to be. I see now that you do not see the Orc in me, only the daughter of man. I am the exception to your hatred. Will you then never accept my people?_

* * *

The next morning, Talion and Ursa departed from Fort Morn to spend the afternoon with Inga. The ranger intended to take them to a place he had uncovered on his journeys. No matter how much Ursa asked, the ranger would not give away the surprise. They journeyed by horse, in a slow trot for the sake of the baby. After three hours, they reached the beginning of the green foothills that lay in the back of Núrn. Here, Talion left the horses with two of his guards, while another pair followed closely.

"This way," said the ranger, beckoning his wife and daughter to him.

Ursa said, "We must rest soon, Talion. Inga needs to suckle."

"She may," said the ranger, "Once we've come to the place of rest."

Ursa remained silent the rest of the journey, excited to know what he had planned for them. After ten minutes, they left the road and began to climb up the small hills. Ursa's eyes darted about as she took in the grass, so much higher than on the coast. She began to pant as Talion took her uphill upon a large slope. They went over it and descended a small canyon. It led down towards to a small pool of water. Beside the pool, was a large opening on the side of a set of hills, having collided over thousands of years. Here Ursa saw a thing of beauty.

Upon the pool of water were white lilies, reeds, and cattails. On the grassy knoll beside it there was a hill of wild flowers. In the center of this bouquet, she spotted a much larger blossom. It was a great lily of white petals with a red stripes and stalk. Its leaves were a deep emerald without blemish.

Talion said, "It is a flower from the Island of Carnán. I do not know how it came here. Perhaps the tribesmen planted it long ago."

Ursa wondered if it was indeed stolen from the island, or if it was once a seed pod carried by the wind across the sea.

She said, "I did not think her garden could thrive elsewhere."

The ranger said, "Her blessing wanes upon the coast. Perhaps this is a special place."

Ursa would need to ask the spirit of the forest when next they met. For now, she knelt down beside the plant. She took her nose up to it and breathed in its fragrance. It smelled sweeter than any lily she had known. Ursa pressed Inga's face up to the petals. The baby's mouth opened and she began to gaze at the flower with curiosity.

Ursa said, "It's beautiful. Thank you for bringing us here."

"I came across it when I was last with Torvin. I have meant to bring you here for many months now… I was afraid I would not have the chance."

She said, "I wish there was more time."

"There will be many more chances, Ursa. When we return from war, this flower will still be here waiting for us. I promise."

* * *

Ursa stood atop her watchtower at midday. She looked towards the far-off sea that led to Thaurband. Here the sky was clear. Above her, only light clouds remained. For this reason, she kept a veil upon her head to protect her fragile flesh. Even so, the light and deep blue sky was beautiful to her. Her eye turned to the horizon, back to the road leading to Udûn, to deep Mordor. The storm clouds that had rained so long upon them had moved on to the north.

The North.

It called to her.

Below, she saw her black ships returning to the harbor. The land-dwelling army would soon follow. The days she had freed to spend with Inga were gone and past. Their arrival now marked this. She turned her sights to the island, knowing her forces stirred in Carnán. It marked the beginnings of Amdir, the last sanctuary of the Witch Queen. Her thoughts then turned to Hallas. He had seen many horrors as of late. She wondered how to tell him they would be parting ways, that he could not keep his oath for a time. The Queen sighed, vexed by her worries. The beauty of the ride through the clouds sunk beneath her duties and the breaking of bonds.

* * *

"You've returned… Flog… Hallas… Welcome home." said Ursa.

She sat at her throne, seated there in red robes with a black cape of gold trim lying over her shoulder. Above, she wore crown of spires and a blue eye seated in the center. For all her glory, she titled her head and beamed at them both.

Flog said, "Thank you, my Overlord. 'twas a glorious victory, and an even more glorious celebration!"

Hallas answered, "Yes. Thank you, Queen Ursa."

Ursa's face looked bothered by his demeanor. His face seemed lifeless and distant. His tone was almost deadpan, indistinguishable from any other sound in the throne room. Guilt pained her as she considered that her bringing him to war had harmed him. Had he stayed with Orison, the young man would be anxious but not suffering.

She said, "You fought well, Hallas. I did not know you had trained in spear tossing."

He said, "Yet I did not save the rider."

She said, "You seem weary from your journey. Please rest a while."

"I shall. My Queen… I would like to request some time away from my duties… to train with my master."

"Of course," she said, "If you don't mind, I would like to speak to you alone today. Would you meet me on the top of my celestial tower at dusk?"

He said, "I… cannot it not be said here?"

"Listen boy!" said Flog, clearly outraged, "Don't go being rude to the Overlord!"

Ursa bit her lip at Hallas's response, trying to hold back the anguish.

 _Perhaps he hates me._

She said, "I am sorry but… it is urgent."

"Very well, my Queen," he said with a bow before turning away.

* * *

The night did not hesitate to settle over the land of Núrn. On this silent night, the vexed Queen looked up at the stars. Over the sea, they were far clearer than they ever were in Udûn. Without the smoke of volcanic eruption and industry, they shined brightly upon her from above. After settling on a constellation, she looked down at her charts. They were far more refined now, having borrowed many star charts and accounts from her fellow queen to the east. Suddenly, she saw a streak of light shoot on past. Her eyes widened in curiosity. She had hoped to see one that night. However, her surprise turned to momentary delight. A dozen more now began to streak on past. Ursa wondered on what they were. They appeared to be stars that were flying past at an unimaginable speed. S

"Fire?" she wondered, "Fire creates light. Is it fire from the heavens?"

"My Queen"

Ursa gasped in fear and spun around to see Hallas.

"Ah, Hallas," she said, "You startled me. Thank you for coming."

He said, "There's no need to thank me. I was only following orders."

"Hallas… I am leaving. In a few days, I will ride by drake to the North, and accompany Talion on his quest. We go to conquer Gorgoroth."

Hallas looked down to his navels.

He said, "I see…"

Ursa said, "If you wish, you can travel to the Island of Carnán when my enclave is complete. My father goes there to care for Inga. I would be honored if… well, if you would guard her in my absence. In any case, I do not wish to separate you and your master."

He said, "So you really are leaving… very well. I will go. Is that all my lady?"

"Hallas…."

Her voice waved.

She said softly, "I am sorry if I have caused you any pain. It was wrong of me to bring you to Thaurband, such a terrible place. You saw so many of your comrades die there. So many scarred and in chains. Please forgive me for my cruelty."

Hallas's eyes widened suddenly. He seemed taken back by this response.

He said, "I… It is true I was not prepared for it. Nevertheless, I think it made me stronger. I do not regret following you to war."

"Then why?" she asked, "Why are you so cold? I thought we were close, you and I?"

The boy grit his teeth and spun around, away from her.

"I see…" she said as her eye sunk, "So you really do hate me."

Upon hearing her words, the stones plated around his heart began to break. He felt a great emotion swell up within him, one that threatened everything.

"I do not! My Queen, why did you have to call me here? It's not proper for me to be here… as a man. Ah, I suppose you don't see me as that."

"Of course, I do. You're not that much younger than me, Hallas. I don't understand. Have I done something wrong to make you feel so bitter about me?"

"I do not feel bitter… I… I cannot say the thing that troubles me."

She said, "I see… Alas, that I must soon leave. I wish I had time to understand. I am sorry for leaving you so quickly, and for leaving you behind even after accepting you into my service. It is my wrong doing, not your own. Hallas… please continue to live and grow… No matter what you choose to be, you will only grow into a finer man. I am sure."

"Please... stop" he whispered.

Ursa's smile vanished. Her gaze fell to her feet. As her heart broke, tears began to well from her eyes. Hallas looked up to see her sniffling and wiping away droplets of water from her chin.

She spoke, "Ah… this is nothing."

"My Queen… I… Forgive me. It's not as you think it is. I do not hate you. I do not. It's the opposite."

He continued, "You were too kind to me. That is why you should have left me alone, to mend my own broken heart. Instead, you say such wonderful things right as you intend to abandon me. Even though I wished to be by your side always, I wished you would leave so I wouldn't be tormented."

Ursa now froze entirely. Her tears had ceased, and she awaited his answer. She was beginning to understand.

"My Queen… forgive me. The truths is that I love you."

"H-Hallas… You love me? That is… It is only the idea of a queen you pine for. Your love is meant for some young maiden, who will-"

"It is you I love!"

He reached forward now and lay a kiss upon her lips. The Queen's cheeks turned pink and she lept backwards. Her face was petrified, and she did not look upon him.

Ursa whispered, "You shouldn't have done that… This is my fault. I led you astray in our time together."

"I know I shouldn't have. Even so, I spoke only from my heart."

"Hallas," she said softly, "I am flattered that you feel so. I did not think another man besides Talion could ever love me. Even so, my heart belongs to him alone. Perhaps it is best that we parted ways after all. It would not be proper for you to be by my side. I am sorry."

"Is that your command, my lady?"

"It is."

"Then I shall go to the Island of Carnán."

The Witch Queen walked up towards him. She saw his face was red and now brimming with tears. It seemed he was as sensitive as she was. Ursa hated herself, wishing he had fallen for another.

Ursa said, "I think that would be best. Hallas… I am not angry nor bitter of your kiss. All my wishes for you remain true. Thank you for defending me all this time."

With that, the Queen walked back inside, leaving him alone at her observatory.

As she left, she said, "When we meet again… I hope it will be a joyful reunion. Farewell, my dear knight of Núrn."

* * *

In her crib, the young daughter of the lords of Núrn began to cry. Inga wailed for a time, her face now red and swollen. Finally, a gentle hand came to her aid. It was that of her nurse Ivorwen, here to sooth her. She whispered in the child's ear and began to sing a lullaby. Soon enough, Inga returned to sleep. It would be one of the last she spent in Fort Morn. Already, the ships were preparing to take her to the haven in the forest.

* * *

The crimson drake roosted atop the grand wall of Morn, perched on one of its marquess' the Overlord had constructed. Atop it, sat the rider and his bride. Ahead of them, a great wind was ready to carry them to the North, to deliver them to the endless desert where war festered. Wars was not patient for them. It would soon return to Núrn in all of its fury.

Atanáro let out a roar and shook hishead, trying to wake himself up before the flight. He breathed in and out, sending puffs of smoke from his nostrils. Inside, a furnace was churning.

Dressed in new robes, the Witch Queen held on tightly to her rider. She wore light steel armor over a red tunic, black pants, and plated, silver armor on both arms and legs. Over it, she wore a red cloak with the white fur of a spotted Warg. On her head, rested a black veil like a hood, with the skull of a Caragor atop, it's fangs obscuring her face. A golden set of feathers was tied above her bony crown, a reminder of her royalty. The ranger wore a set of robes she had fashioned for him. Robes of red, and over them, thick leather armor. On the chest piece, the leather was a dark, brown with a white insignia of a tower beset to a radiant sun. He wore over it, a black cape trimmed with white fur just like his wife wore. The outfits would keep them warm on the frozen nights in outer Mordor. Often, Gondorians spoke of Mordor as a place of fire and steam. However, away from the Mountain of Fire, Mordor was a desolate, cold place. Even with its vents and fiery canyons, Gorgoroth's boiling valleys froze over in the shade of night. Talion and Ursa would come to miss the mild weather of Núrn, the cool winter and warm summers. With them, the pair brought a week's worth of food and water, along with medicine, weapons, charts, and a few of Ursa's books. Atanáro was strong of muscle, and did not buckle from the weight. His wings would take them far.

Talion said, "Ursa, are you ready? Take one last look back at Núrn. It will be many months before we gaze upon its beauty again."

Ursa peered back at the landscape. At the green mountains and hills. At the white coasts and silver seas. As the sun stretched over the horizon, painting the sky in a radiant red and magenta. It seemed to be calling out to them, begging them to stay. Even more, they looked upon the palace, knowing there lived their most precious of treasures.

The Queen wept as she looked back.

"Inga… forgive me."

She cried into Talion's back as he pulled hard on the reigns. The Drake's wings spread wide and his iron talons kicked off of the wall of her kingdom. With ease, the beast took to the sky. The dragon rode hard, carrying them away into the fog of war.

 **End of Part 1.**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This marks the first half of the story. The second part will be continue shortly. Thank you so much for continuing to read my works. If you have time, please leave a review. It means so much to me.


	19. The Rivers and the Weight of Lives

**Part 2. Ursa of Fire**

 **Chapter Nineteen: The Rivers of Gorgoroth and the Weight of Lives**

"The Fires of Mount Doom flow outward, into great rivers of lava. From his peak, he sends down ash and stone like a ballista. His hailstorm gave birth to Gorgoroth, the devil's plateau. Gorgoroth is home to Mordor's forges, its tribes of blacksmiths, and the goblin city. It is the city of the mountain. It is a desert of ash and fire… and it was once my home." _\- Ursa speaking to Talion during their journey_

* * *

The flight to Gorgoroth lasted two weeks in whole. The travelers would rest twice a day. In the evening, they would sleep for about six hours. As beautiful as the ride was, it soon turned to boredom in its own way. They could not much move, only sit in an uncomfortable harness as the wind bit at them. Even so, it was far faster than horseback, and more luxurious than walking by foot. Furthermore, watching the mountains pass them by helped distract Ursa form the aching in her heart.

* * *

After the final day of the flight, Atanáro roosted atop the side of a dead volcano, one of the many smaller ones that grew out of the underground veins of magma. The air was thick with toxic fumes, ash, and heat. Ursa slipped off her cloak, as did Talion. They kept masks on their mouths to filter out some of the mountain's smoky air.

Ursa looked up to the scape before her. From the side of the mountain, they could see much of Gorgoroth. She heard a crackling, followed by a deep quake. The Overlord gazed intently at the great mountain in the distance of the Orc factories. A plume of fire and smoke erupted out of Mount Doom. Every day, it crackled and lit up, although it was no true eruption. The goblins believed the mountain was cursed, that the day it truly ignited was being delayed by Sauron. Cheated from death and rebirth, it ached and bled out slowly for centuries. As punishment, it rained down fire on the masses and sent quakes that fractured the earth. However, for the land of Núrn, the softest of ash landed on its borders, becoming soil to nurture the grasslands. As such, Talion was not sure if it was a truly evil place as Barad-dûr was. As for Ursa, Gorgoroth was a place of agony, but not of total darkness.

Far off in the distance, she spied her hometown, the great goblin city. A creation of hives in a barren peak whose lava chamber had emptied. Around it was erected great, spindling towers of wood, ready to collapse. In the mountain's pits and the wooden spires, lay nests of goblins. Here many of the Orc women dwelled, thousands bearing their young far from the threat of war. It was also a home of merchants and traders. Around this place, torches and lamps were lit so that thousands of tiny lights set the nest aglow. Talion could see many Orc camps and villages outside of the old city. He remembered them from when he accidentally entered Ursa's mind. One of those huts was surely where the half-Orc first came to be.

As for the land in front of them, Gorgoroth appeared as no more than cooled lava, black stones of obsidian, pumice, and granite. Sharp blades of rocks stuck out of the earth like knives, another result of the magma that hardened there. All about Gorgoroth, steam erupted out from crevices, canyons, and pits as the pressure under the land tried to escape. Great holes marked the land from when cool air had become trapped during the magma's cooling. To their left, was a great river of lava that poured out from Mount Doom. These fires were used by the blacksmiths to forge their armors, especially those for the Olog and Siege Beasts. About the river, great forges of wood were constructed. Bridges were laid over for the Orc to cross the rivers of fire. War camps and small fortresses also marked the land. Far behind the river, to the right, lay an old fortress of the Overlord. It was being constructed now with new weapons for its walls and a larger outer wall. Even so, it would never compare to what they had seen in Thaurband and built in Fort Morn. However, Ursa and Talion could not see it as it hid far behind a valley of carved mountains and domes of lava.

"Well," said Talion as he pulled down his mask, "Let us keep Atanáro far from sight. He is too valuable to lose. I will go ahead and sneak into one of the smaller fortresses. I will brand some Orcs and take their captains."

Ursa said, "We will need a warchief. I will make his home my own."

"I will return by nightfall," said Talion.

"I will wait for you here and prepare us some supper."

Talion gazed at his wife thoughtfully. He saw her eye of fire seemed dim that day, perplexing of one now trapped in such a dangerous realm. In any case, Ursa's eyes were grave. They had been since they started the journey to the North.

The ranger smile and said, "Ursa… I knew you miss her. My heart mourns as well. But do not despair so. She is safe."

"I am her mother. I cannot help but pine for her."

"Of course"

Talion offered her a comforting hand on her shoulder and then began to tread away, his hand tightly gripping the sword tied to his waist. He then stopped and turned to look upon her once more.

The Gravewalker said, "I am glad you are here. I do not know if I could bear this quest without you."

Ursa responded, "I promised myself I would not leave you again, that we would win this war together. As husband and wife. Even though my heart cries for Inga, I know I chose wisely. I'm glad to bear these trials together with you, Talion."

"Let us plant our flag here then… deep in Mordor. A beacon of light amidst the darkness." said the ranger.

* * *

Three days later….

Ursa sat at her throne, contemplating the future as was in her nature. In the last several days, Talion had taken the fortress and usurped the throne of the Warchief. Now, it was a base of operations to begin conquering all of Gorgoroth. With the Warchief and captains in his control, he had a thousand Uruk. He knew most of the army was guarding the Overlord's keep while others stayed camped out of the goblin city. As such, most of the smaller territories here were his for the taking. As for Ursa, she was considering her next course of action and weighing the news brought before her.

She said to Talion, "The machine tribe rule this area. We must take their forges."

Celebrimbor asked, "Tell me of this tribe."

She said, "They were not yet formed when I was last here as a child. From what I've gathered, they have risen in fame swiftly, all thanks to their talented blacksmiths and beautiful minds. It is they that have forged many of Sauron's war machines. The warchief here told me of some of these weapons. Great chains that reel in smaller foes, crossbows that fire swiftly without changing shot, and a weapon that spews out fires like a drake. We should claim them."

Talion said, "Then I will go at once. The great forges are not far from here."

"There is another matter," said Ursa, "I can lead the invasion. The forges will not be well guarded without their army. I think it best you go to the war camps near the goblin city. There is a market there with dealings in slaves. You may find prisoners from Minas Ithil."

The ranger said, "So far… so far from home… I will bring them here."

"I will have the gate opened upon you return. Good luck."

"As to you. This tribe sounds… unusual. I hope they will be of use to us."

Ursa answered, "If I claim these weapons and their forgers, we will be able to transform our army into something… truly formidable. The Dark Lord is cunning. He has learned much from his last defeat. He not only reorganized thousands of orc and tribes, he has embraced all forms of change. Twisted weapons, alliances from far-off kingdoms, and dark magic. We will need to embrace change as well if we are to win."

"I wonder if that is why Gondor is losing? Have we become complacent and stubborn? Perhaps that is why Minas Ithil was lost," said Talion softly.

He then spoke, "If what you say is true, then I am sure you are that change Ursa. An overlord, both half-Orc and a woman, leading an army… It's unheard of."

"Said by an undead ranger host to a wraith wielding a ring of light. It seems we are a strange pair. Perfect for each other, don't you think?"

"I do. After this is over, we should marry."

Ursa giggled at his words until a few tears began to appear. She flicked them away as she giggled one last time.

She said, "Oh, you're distracting me! Go at once. Go and save your people."

With her final command, her ranger bowed and took off into the desert.

* * *

The ranger stood atop one of the slave market's wires that sent their produce bins down. He remained completely still, not swaying nor losing balance for a single moment. Down below, he watched as a row of slaves were dragged forward. He saw three men, a woman, and a pair of children amongst them. His ears were ringing from the horrific sounds emitting from the goblin city. For whatever reason, he did not wish to get closer. The chirps and screams from the goblins was utterly deafening. Inside, he wondered on what sort of place it truly was. Without question, there were tens of thousands of Orcs living here. It was said that nests like these were built all around Barad-dûr. Here Sauron was breeding new Orc by the thousands to replace his fallen ranks. Every hundred Orc, a great Uruk-Hai was born. An Orc that was not hunched over and without muscle, but tall and broad-shouldered. It was not unusual for short stocky Orcs to be born, but Uruk like Isulek and Balos were truly rare. These were born from the strongest Orcs, likely from tall male Uruk sent to breed with the females to bear even more Black Orc. These would become great captains, Warchiefs, and Overlords one day. Talion knew that once Barad-dûr was conquered, the Bright Lord would need to conquer these places. For now, he would stay his hand. The goblins here were mostly mothers and children.

The ranger's mind then returned to the auction below. The slaves were being sold for goods like weapons, food, and strips of land. Most were sent down from Thaurband to work at the forges in Gorgoroth. Talion now drew out his bow. He would make short work of the archers here, then he needed only slay the foot soldiers. Right as he was preparing to fire, he saw one of the guards fall at the blade of a man. Beside this person, was another warrior clad in Gondorian armor. The ranger wondered what Gondorian soldiers were doing so far to the north. He quickly fired upon the archers, hoping to lend them assistance. As he picked them off, the soldiers continued to duel with the Orc. Already, they had slain several.

Talion now dropped down upon an Orc. He thrust his dagger down into its spine, pinning it there. As he looked up, he was dumbfounded by what he witnessed. It was a woman with golden brown hair and a man of ebony skin fighting. He knew these two. Idril roared in fury as she knocked aside an Orc's sword. She immediately plunged her blade forward into its chest. To her side, Baranor wrestled with an Uruk. He tore free of its grip and sent a fist at its liver. The goblin buckled over and the captain hacked into his neck. Meanwhile, Idril continued to duel with the other Orcs. Her sword work had greatly improved since last Talion saw her. She outmaneuvered their blades and won each clash. Talion quickly moved in, backstabbing one of the Orcs from behind. At last, the slavers were dead. The prisoners now began to cheer for their captors.

Baranor shouted to them, "You are free my brothers. My sisters."

He found the keys of the dead slaver lying in the soil and so began to unbind them. Idril did not aid him. She looked about to the roofs, listening for any noise and sign of a disturbance. Talion scrutinized her. Her hair was unkempt, and her face was smeared with dirt. Her eyes appeared bloodshot with grey bags underlining them. She seemed well broken by Mordor, and accustomed to its cruelty. It saddened him to see her so.

"You've done well, Idril," said the ranger.

"This is nothing. There are hundreds more to save. Many slaves still remain in Gorgoroth."

"We will take them in time."

She said, "I am glad you are here. It will make things easier."

Talion detected malice in her voice, despite her words of thanks. Yet it did not seem aimed at him in particular. He remembered all that had transpired since they last met. Her father had betrayed his people for her sake, and been killed for his troubles. Minas Ithil had fallen and hundreds were slaughtered when the Orcs took the city. Since then, he wondered what had haunted her mind. She had gained determination, but what madness now drove her further into the inferno?

"Talion!"

A warm voice broke him from his pondering. Baranor smiled and his arms latched around his comrade. The ranger was met with a brisk hug from his comrade.

"It is good to see you brother," said the captain, "I hear that Thaurband has fallen. You freed many there and saved us a great walk."

"Yes."

Baranor asked, "How is your wife and child?"

"They-"

"We should go," said Idril.

Baranor said, "Of course. Let us save the pleasantries for later."

Talion said, "I will lead your people to my camp. They will be safe there."

* * *

The Overlord stood with her archers beside her. Upon the throne, she wore a crown of gold. In its place, she wore a helmet of steel with the horns of a cow sown to the sides. A helm dawned in times of battle. She could not risk a stray arrow ending her life. While Ursa possessed a level of sorcery few could compare with, she was still entirely mortal.

For now, Ursa sent her archers to fire upon the enemy's cavalry, a pack of Warg-riding Caragor that guarded the great forge. From above the forge, archers were raining down more arrows. Ursa looked up to the top of the roof where she saw a silhouette of the goblin. She stretched out her hand. Immediately, the Orc began to burn from her spell. In madness and pain, it cast itself off the roof, to its death. Soon the factory's main doors broke open. A huge grey troll with a top knot emerged with a massive hammer in hand. This was not a soldier but an engineer. He threw the hammer forward and sent it down onto her archers.

"He threw his weapon! Idiot!" shouted one of her goblins.

"Hold the line!" she said.

The Orcs paid her order no heed. Rather, they ran forward to stab at the Olog's legs. The troll reeled its weapon back into its grasp. It seemed the hammer was tied to a long chain. The chain itself was coiled on its back within a pack of some sort. A lever was at its belt. It pulled upon the handled and the chain came rolling in with the hammer in tow.

The Olog shouted, "Go ahead and gaze at this handiwork. You are no match for the tools of our tribe."

Ursa said, "One hammer cannot fell an army. Surrender. I have use of you and all your Orcs. Join us, join the Bright Lord. We have already taken all of Núrn. Gorgoroth is ready to fall. Will you not join the winning side so your tools can be put to use?"

"I will not bow to a dirty blood half-breed! Now stand still so I can send this ha—AAAAGHH"

Ursa sighed and closed her eyes. The great troll was consumed by flames that burned as hot as his foundry. The Olog tore at its skin, screaming in pain as it succumbed to the fire. With such thick hide, he burned excruciatingly for a long stretch of time. Finally, he keeled over dead as his body continued to burn.

Ursa stretched out her hand and sent a ring of fire about the entire forge.

She shouted, "There is no escape! Drop your weapons and pledge yourself to me. If so, all will be forgiven."

Soon enough, dozens of engineers, smiths, and inventors came pouring out of the foundry. Olog and Orc alike bowed down before the Overlord. As they groveled, Ursa smiled lightly and approached them.

She said, "To lose a single one of you is a tragedy. Serve me and you will be free to build even your most outlandish of inventions. Will you bow down to Ursa the Cunning and the army of the Bright Lord?"

"I will" said an Olog prostrate at her feet.

"Stand… stand proud," she said, "Such brilliant minds. I cannot wait to see what you create. How you flourish…"

The Olog said, "What of the rest of our tribe? Are we to betray them?"

She said, "The Bright Lord can be persuasive. They will join you by my side soon enough."

An Orc said, "Let me go inside my lady. We should recover the weapon at once."

"What weapon?"

"The one the Dark Lord seeks. A weapon that creates fire as you can. It is the first of its kind. We call it… the cannon."

She said, "So the rumor was true. Yes, show me this weapon."

One of the Olog engineers returned after a few minutes with the canon in his arms. It was larger than she had expected. It would not fit in the hands of even the largest Uruk-Hai. The Olog now aimed it at a clearing. He pulled on the lever at its side, which created a clicking sound. Suddenly, the cannon sent out a stream of fire as if a drake were inside. It exploded forward into an explosion of spark and fire that latched onto the volcanic soil.

She said, "Is it a weapon of magic?"

"No magic. We build up pressure in there and then let it loose."

Ursa spoke, "Like the bolt of a crossbow. Then there must be fuel laced inside…"

"Indeed."

She said, "Sauron does not yet possess this weapon. We can arm our Olog with it to take down war machines and the enemy's heavy rams. No. First I must see how it works and open it up."

In truth, she was more interested in the latter than its implementation in the war effort. She wasn't much of an engineer, but was curious about what made it tick. If she understood it, she might have an idea how to properly utilize it and commission similar weapons.

The goblin said, "Um... Miss Overlord… I should warn ya. We already sent word to the tower that it was complete. They'll be sending someone to inspect it."

Ursa said, "Nazgul…"

She spun around and said, "We will abandon the forge for now and return to my fort. Bring all your plans and inventions. Leave nothing behind for the Nazgul."

* * *

The ranger stood perched above one of the watch towers as he awaited Ursa's return. At last, he saw her banner coming in over the horizon.

The Bright Lord said, "It is as I said. The Overlord will not fall to some common Orc."

Talion said, "I have faith in her, just not in good fortune."

The ranger now climbed down the wall's rickety latter. He dropped to the ground and ordered open the gate. As the wooden doors slowly creaked open, he looked to the slaves in the center of the clearing, those standing in front of the Overlord's home. He saw Baranor ministering to them, patching up wounds and giving them words of comfort. On the other hand, Idril was examining a crude map of the area, planning her next move. The ranger could not help but grimace.

Talion strode forward and said to Idril, "Ursa returns. You should remain here until we have taken the Overlord's fortress."

Idril said, "Thank you. Once we have liberated the slave camps, we will lead them to Núrn."

Talion asked, "Shelob would not allow you safe passage back through Cirith Ungol?"

"She said she had already risked too much. She feared that if Gondor used her passageway, then surely Sauron will send his servants to slay her."

Baranor said, "You forgot the part where she said her young could be unruly. That 'fresh meat' was difficult to resist, even for her."

Celebrimbor said to Talion, "It would be wise to avoid that passage. She may devour them with little provocation. I sensed a great hunger within her."

Talion said to Idril, "I think they will be happy in Núrn. It is a land of beauty with a sea that glistens like diamonds. Any that feel otherwise, that wish to go to Minas Tirith, I can fly over by drake once this war is over."

Idril said, "That is all we ask. Then I should be going. There are many more camps to see to."

The ranger said, "Rest a while. You are worn down from your hunt."

"I am fine," she said angrily, "Every second we waste here, more slaves are sent off to die. I will not let a single one slip away."

The ranger could not argue. He had said similar things when entering Thaurband. Even so, he disliked seeing such words coming from her. She was not a soldier as he was. Then again, he was not so sure. Looking at her eyes, they seemed glassy and she seemed elsewhere. Battle had utterly hardened her, and her sword was sharper than ever. Somehow, Idril and Baranor had survived against all odds, even managing to slip so far inland.

"You've become strong," said Talion.

"I had to… it was the only way to survive." she answered.

* * *

In from gates, marched Ursa's regiment. The three hundred Orcs she led into battle now returned home with her. Another two hundred were in tow, those from the factory. Behind her, the Olog engineer held the weapon of fire. Her eyes lit up as she saw the ranger had already returned from his mission.

She said, "I bring a weapon that will change the shape of the war. Alas, I bring evil news with it. One of Sauron's servants draws near. He will be there soon."

Talion said, "I will go and scout the forge. I have an idea of who they sent."

The Overlord dismounted from her horse and gazed at the two soldiers clad in the armor of Minas Ithil. She was surprised to see a woman wearing their gear and a man with ebony skin. She guessed that the woman must be the shieldmaiden who survived Minas Ithil's fall. As for the man, he appeared to be an Easterling or Haradrim. She had only seen a few in her lifetime, and none with such dark skin.

Baranor said, "So this is the woman Talion spoke of?"

He bowed before Ursa and kissed her hand. She smiled back at him from the gesture.

However, for all of his politeness, Talion noticed Baranor seemed unsettled. He could not hide the slight discomfort her had when he gazed at her. As for Idril, she did not even come to greet the Queen.

* * *

As night fell upon them, Talion at last took a moment to eat something. He had sent Orcs to scout ahead of them, and would join them at midnight. For now, he had to fill his empty stomach. To pass the time, the Gravewalker conversed with Baranor, as they broke bread and ate a roasted pheasant over a campfire. All about them, the slaves were eating hungrily of a feast retrieved from the Warchief's stocks and pantries. Even the ill-flavored meat of the Caragor tasted amazing to their empty stomachs.

The ranger said, "You know what I hate most about deep Mordor? Dark Lord aside, it's definitely the sky. Not a star in sight, only dark clouds as far as the eye can see. I no longer can tell if it is night or day. It no longer matters here."

Baranor said, "It makes it hard to sleep indeed. For me, it's the air. It chokes you always, and coats you in ash. I feel as if my skin is on fire. Alas, even the clouds above are simply smoke from the mountain. 'tis a desolate place."

"Yet even here in Mordor," said Ursa, "the rain pours down upon us, and through the dark clouds, one might see a lone star."

Baranor said, "I did not mean to offend you."

"Oh no. You did not. I only mean… well, I m not fond of Mordor, not in the least. For me, the rain and the stars were simply a symbol of hope in this hopeless land. Yes, even here there is hope."

Baranor suddenly jumped up.

"Ungol, they're going for the food!"

Talion said, "Wait a moment…. These Ungol are friend… er… allies."

A large Ungol now appeared from a pit beside them. She stretched out her legs and nimbly climbed up. Her red eyes peered all about as she took in the many figures before her. Each one she knew from previous meetings or reports from her children. With a bow, she gave her piece.

"Lord Talion…. I bring news…"

The ranger said, "I see… I… wait just a moment. How can you possibly be here? We rode hard upon the back of a drake. Last I saw you, you were in Núrn. How have you arrived in Gorgoroth so quickly?"

She said," I don't… understand… The question."

"I'm asking how you came here."

"I… don't understand… Master… Are you upset… with me?"

Talion sighed at the bizarre situation before him. However, he was more concerned with the message she brought.

She said, "A black rider... is upon the road… of Khand. He will be here… at dawn."

"A black rider?" asked Baranor, "Nazgul…"

"So they show their faces at last," said Idril, "Good. I've been waiting."

Baranor said, "Idril, we should leave this quest in the hands of the immortal ranger."

"No," she replied, "I must go. It may be the one that murdered my father."

Her friend replied, "Let us speak of this matter elsewhere."

* * *

He dragged her over to the side of the wall and began to argue with her. Talion watched as they quarreled. Baranor seemed furious all of the sudden.

"Idril… When will this madness end?"

She said, "Baranor, what do you fear? The ranger and his army will be there with us. This is our chance to slay this monster."

"Only a fool wouldn't fear the Nazgul. They are fear itself. But right now, what I truly fear is you. I fear that it is no longer enough to go and rescue our kin. Are you no longer content with saving our people? Must you now challenge a Nazgul? And then what? The Witch King himself? Will you be consumed entirely by vengeance?"

"Vengeance?" she asked, "Vengeance is useless to me. It is tempting, but my reasons are not so childish, Baranor. I will go because it is my duty to do so, to avenge my city."

"You speak of duty always these days," he said, "Never once of anything else. Never of relics or treasures, never of better days, never of me…"

She said, "I am grateful you are here, but I tire of this. You are not my father, so stop holding me back."

He said, "Any good friend would do so."

"Leave me be. If you wish to return, then do so. I hate seeing you risking your life anyway. If you died... I… There wouldn't be anyone left."

She tried to leave, but Baranor grabbed her by the arm.

Baranor spoke in her ear, "Then leave this matter to the ranger. Let us go to the slave camps as we agreed. I believe it is a worthy path for atonement. That is why I followed you."

She said, "You speak reason, but I have made up my mind. I must do this Baranor. I must confront this evil."

"Tell me Idril, why do you truly walk this path? Is it for atonement? Is it for your people? Or is it because you are so eager to die?"

"I tire to this conversation. How many times will you confront me and doubt my intentions? How many times must I prove myself a soldier of Gondor to you? To all of you?"

"Yet you never answer when I confront you. You simply keep running away."

"I am not running. I stopped running long ago."

Baranor replied, "You do nothing but run."

Idril screamed out and tore her hand violently from him. She grabbed hold of him by the collar and she bore her teeth. She could not hide her fury as she gazed up at him. Baranor stumbled backwards at the gesture. Idril had not expressed any fury in all their journey through Mordor. Her eyes had been dead each and every day, as if the last traces of her lifeforce sank at Minas Ithil.

She said, "I ran once. Never again. Even as the Witch King's army bore down upon the city, I stayed and fought! Now I hunt in Mordor itself! Yet still you would call me 'coward?'"

Baranor said, "You ran towards the enemy. You threw yourselves into the swords of the Mordor! You ran from the horror of the burning city. You abandoned what you loved! You tossed aside your books for blades, dresses for armor, and happiness for suffering. Tell me Idril, when did you first decide your life wasn't worth anything? That you deserved death?"

"I do deserve death!" she roared out, "I am crushed by the weight of lives. I hear their cries as I sleep at night. A thousand graves and lives tied to my neck, choking me. That is why you should go. I cannot bear to lose another. Not a single one. If I fail again, then I would be lost."

Idril shook her head and said, "Death is preferable to such a life. In death there is escape. A glorious death as a shieldmaiden. There is some beauty in that, some comfort to be found."

Baranor said, "Your mother loved you, Idril! As did your father! Even now, there are many that love you. It is out of love your parents laid down their lives!"

"I did not ask it of them."

He answered, "No. It was their choice. For they believed that your life was a precious thing. That is why you must live on and live a worthy life. Idril, it is unbearable to see one so good-matured suffer so, to resent their own existence."

She said, "Baranor…"

Her voice trembled, and she hid her eyes behind her long bangs.

Idril said softy, "Please do not say another word."

She continued, "When this is over and Gorgoroth is taken… then let us speak of such things. For now, I must keep to this path."

He said, "That path should not be with the Nazgul."

She said, "The Ringwraith blocks my way. I must see this done."

"Then I will see it done with you. That was my promise."

She managed a crooked smile at him, but Baranor was not convinced by it. In her eyes, she was no longer cold, but her eyes still seemed sorrowful.

She asked him, "Baranor… for my sake, will you survive through this? W-Will you live for me?"

Her friend gulped at the sudden question. However, he did not hesitate long to answer.

"Yes. Will you live for mine?"

Idril's eyes sunk to the ground and said, "I will give you your answer one day. Will you wait?"

He put a hand upon her shoulder and beamed down at her. Through all her emotions, she had not she a single tear to spare. Or perhaps she had none left, not until the war was over and she remembered her former self.

Her knight answered her, "I will. I always have."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** In the sequel game's lore, I discovered that the Uruk-Kai are indeed created from pits like as Saruman's Orc are. This makes sense as it explains how Sauruman knew how to breed them, and also how so many Orcs as tall as a grown man appear in the games. However, I'd prefer to keep the Uruk-Kai and pits separate from Sauron's own processes. Tolkien seemed to favor Black Orcs being the elite of the ranks, and thought Mordor Orcs were bred naturally. As such, I favor Sauron's tall Uruks being simply the elite of the gene pool, born of a natural union.


	20. The Lost Souls and the Necromancer

**Chapter Twenty: The Lost Souls and the Necromancer's Arrival**

The jingling of old, rusted chains. The sharp pain of a hundred cuts and bruises. The smell of drying blood, and the filth of the dungeon. Blood and puss poured out from her empty eye socket. The grin of the cruel Warchief Belos was upon her. A memory as vivid as life itself. Cries for water and freedom rang out through the dungeon. Right now, her ranger was far from here. Right now, she begged for one thing.

"Please… kill me…"

Ursa woke up panting for air, as if it had left her lungs. Her hair stuck to her skin, so thoroughly drenched with sweat. Her body trembled now. She could still feel the pain of the nightmare. The danger still felt close at hand. Now it all turned to rage. She grit her teeth and hissed as it took hold of her. With a hand stretched out, the flames climbed up, ready to burn it all away.

"Ursa!"

She turned to see the ranger beside her, his face filled with alarm. The Overlord gasped and called upon her flames once again, only this time it was to extinguish them. In an instant, they were gone, leaving an ashen burn mark along the fur rug lying at the foot of their bed.

Ursa said, "I… I didn't mean to… I'm so sorry, Talion."

His arms wrapped around her and he said, "What happened?"

"It was a nightmare… I've never created magic in my sleep before."

"You have gained power , Ursa. I sometimes awake from my sleep with a dagger drawn. Well, I don't keep it too close these days."

"I cannot hide away this power," she said, "I am a danger to you."

"Ursa… I am immortal," he stated bluntly, "Tell me what troubles you? Let us speak with it as we always do."

She said, "There is no point. They will not fade. Even with all this power, why am I still afraid? Will the memory of Belos continue to haunt me forever?"

He said, "Belos can never harm you again. In his shame, he lost his own mind. His Orcs turned on him, leaving him a cripple. There is nothing left of him to fear."

"I know… but in dream, I am again that helpless Orc in Udûn."

"Ursa… you were never helpless, you were just alone."

She said, "I don't know what is happening. Why did I call upon the fire?"

"To defend yourself. It was a nightmare."

She shook her head and said, "No… Deep down, what did I desire? In that moment, it was as if I was the fire."

"Talion… I'm scared. What am I becoming?"

"You are the same woman I married," said Talion, "the one that I love."

Ursa answered, "There's something inside of me. Whispering to me. It gave Sauron a voice. I must destroy it. I don't wish to become cold and cruel. After I destroyed the Tower, I promised myself I would never be cruel again, that even Ul-Khan deserved a swift death. Talion, you must not let this take me. Talion… if I lose that part of myself… then you must brand me."

The ranger said nothing. He placed his hands on the side of her head and titled it up to his own. He gazed down at her now, his eyes utterly focused on her, leaving her breathless.

"Ursa, I want you to listen to me… you are not cruel! You are not an evil thing. The world wronged you, yet you still seek its salvation. You have sought love and loved others through all of it. That is who you are. Your legacy. No more worries. Tonight, you will sleep in my arms and I will drive away the nightmares."

"Talion…"

Ursa whimpered as she wept in his embrace. She burrowed herself in his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. Even as a corpse, the heart of a man still rested within him, giving life to both of them. The Overlord took a deep breath and returned to sleep. Talion now slid to the side of her and held his wife close to him. She slept in his embrace through the night.

* * *

Although the night was dark, Ursa' spirits returned with dawn. She awoke to find her ranger with his arms wrapped around her. He had kept true to his promise. The Overlord let out a sigh as the first light of dawn landed upon her forehead. She remembered that they were no longer in Núrn, that she would not find Inga's crib in front of them. She wondered how much her daughter had grown in the weeks they had been away. Even if just a tenth of an inch, she wished so desperately to know. Ursa missed the sound of her cries. Even the less-than-savory memories, cleaning her messes and hearing her cries late at night… right now they seemed beautiful, like music that rejuvenates the soul. However, it was not to be.

Ursa felt her body heat up as she felt Talion rub his body against hers in his sleep and wrap his arms tightly across her chest. Of course, his snores were less welcome, especially perched against her ear. Even so, feeling his head besides her's was comforting. She remembered why she was there. To others, it might seem foolish for the Queen of Núrn to leave her duties and her daughter for a journey into the realm of the enemy. However, they went because they had to. Because Talion needed her and she needed him. Because together, their wits were unmatched. Because together, they transformed the world with ice and fire. Because together, they could do anything.

* * *

"Lady Idril, is that you?"

The shieldmaiden looked to the side where several of the freed slaves were resting. Her hands were full with a bowl of tasteless stew in each. All around her, the entire camp was downing the food, their empty stomachs finding it as delicious as a hot Gondorian meal. It was all they could do to pass the time. All about her were slaves, once proud citizens and soldiers of Gondor. They could be again, or at the very least, they could remain free.

At her feet, someone was scrutinizing her closely.

At last, he said, "It is you."

It was a man in his mid-thirties, with deep brown hair and a scar running from his ear to his lip.

She asked, "That scar… were you a soldier of Minas Ithil?"

He answered, "I was. I am Eodes, son of Bren. I was the sergeant of one of the first companies, sent to defend the wall. I was captured with the breaching of outer wall."

Idril answered, "You fought bravely. Our people escaped to the upper city thanks to you."

Eodes said, "They said Minas Ithil fell… that our people were slain. Is it true, my lady?"

"Has no one told you?" she asked.

When he did not answer, Idril sighed and looked away from him.

She answered, "Many hundreds survived. Camps like these are found about Mordor."

"Then it is true," he said, "It has fallen and all of Gondor will follow. We have failed. I have failed."

Idril said nothing to his quell his guilt.

He went on, "I thought my city beautiful, grander than even Minas Tirith herself. What could compare to her ivory tower that shone across the plains? Her walls that weathered the centuries? The faces of the crowds greeting you home as you returned victorious? How could Gondor's jewel be stolen? In a moment, how did our world turn to shadow? How did it come to this?"

Idril looked down at his face fell into sadness. Her cold eyes seemed to waver for a moment, as if trying to draw upon the emotions of another life. He began to weep, a lamentation for what was lost forever.

She said, "Minas Ithil… lives on."

Eodes' face now lit up. Although her voice was cold, her words gave him warmth.

The woman continued, "You must live on and tell others of her splendor… Of the promised day, when light returns to her golden halls. Of the day her people come home."

He said, "If you would have me, I would serve with you and Baranor."

Idril said, "We will need men to escort the women and children to Núrn. Those able with sword are welcome."

"Thank you, my lady."

She bowed without smile and turned away to go join Baranor who was sharpening his blade at the side of the wall. As she approached, she stopped to look up at the watch tower. The black clouds of smoke were thick in Gorgoroth, but the watchtower had turned to gold regardless. As the volcanic fumes were blown about by the wind, the sun's radiance slipped inside. Idril now looked away from its light, and rejoined her comrade. She knelt down beside him and handed him one of the bowls.

"Thank you," he said before scooping up some of the slop.

He said, "That was kind of you."

Idril said, "It will be a long road. It is too soon for them to give up."

"Did you believe what you said?" he asked, "That we would reclaim Minas Ithil?"

She said, "It is but a dream. I do not know the future of the world."

Baranor said, "I hope that day comes soon. That the Orcs are driven out and I… I will get to return to my estate. Then I can give my parents the burial they deserved."

"Oh Baranor…"

Her voice wavered as she spoke, gazing down at him softly. Idril sat down close beside him now. They ate in silence for the rest of the morning.

* * *

As dusk slipped away, word soon reached Talion's camp, sent from the spiders. They spoke of a Black Riders coming. Talion and Ursa prepared a company for his arrival. The plan was simple. Orcs were to pose as the engineers at the factory to avoid suspicion. When the Nazgul drew near, the Orcs would turn on them. Meanwhile, cavalry led by Ursa would surround the factory and ensure none escaped. The Warchief of Gorgoroth would await in his keep if anything went awry. As for Talion, he would watch with the others from a hilltop. There were too few places to hide and the rooftop might be watched as they approached. Once the Ringwraith drew near, Talion would teleport to the rooftop to assassinate him. The Nazgul would be banished from the realm and they would be free to conquer the nearby Overlord. Idril and Baranor would go with them, as would several soldiers such as Eodes. They were not to engage in the immediate battle, but to serve as reinforcements. With their sword skills being better than most Orcs, such allies were quite valuable.

* * *

Celebrimbor spoke, to his servants, saying, "I sense a wraith. He draws near."

The ranger was laying down on the volcanic hilltop while his cavalry hid further down. Ursa lay by his side, wanting to assess the terrain. Behind their division, were the ruins of an old fort. It's second level had long broken off and fallen to the ground beneath it. Here, Talion's archers spied on the factory that lay about three hundred feet away.

Talion said, "I will take to the rooftop of the factory. A surprise attack will do nicely against these agents."

Ursa replied, "If he tries to escape, I will set my fire upon him."

Up ahead, they saw the Black Rider, and a train of a hundred Orcs. Some goblins rode on horses, while others rode on Caragor. Bringing a cavalry division was a risk, but it allowed them to cross Mordor more swiftly. Likely, the Nazgul also chose to ride by steed to keep their mission a secret from enemies such as Talion. After all, the weapon was of the upmost secrecy.

Talion and the Elf could now see the rider had reached the front of the foundry. He would soon examine its contents and find it to be a trap. The Nazgul stopped on his horse. Several Orcs dismounted and began to knock on the door.

Ursa said, "Here is your chance."

Talion said, "Wait…."

His silver eyes slowly scrutinized the target, as well as his Orcs. On the surface, it seemed believable. There were no tells to suggest otherwise. They sensed the Nazgul's presence, the fear he was taking in from all life about him. However, the ranger could not forgo years of training, of hunting Orcs and facing these dark specters.

The Wraith spoke, "There is no time to waste, Talion. Let us slay this wretch before we lose sight of him."

The ranger said, "Something is amiss. They seem… on edge. Look… the Wraith is sending a dozen in ahead of him. He seems too cautious… as if he is afraid."

Ursa said, "Have they caught on to us? Why do you think it strange for him to be cautious? Are these Nazgul not cunning?"

"He does not move like a Nazgul. Their movements are graceful and malicious… like serpents. This rider is afraid."

Ursa said, "A fake? Like my own gambit with the Tower. Then the real one is-"

From the ground behind the army, a black cloud of smoke poisoned the area. The rippling rags of the Nazgul protruded out as he ascended. He had come all this way without taking physical form, spying on them in the netherworld. His sword now turned forward upon the Orcs in the back of the ranks. His blade silently slipped off one's throat and then beheaded the other.

Up ahead, Talion said, "We are being hunted."

He spun around down towards the ranks. Idril and Baranor looked at him with surprise.

He said, "Draw swords!"

The Ringwraith let out a scream that froze Talion's men, leaving them listless. Baranor pulled out his bow and spied it through his men. His arrow fired for its head, but it vanished from sight. Its gaseous form poured into the fortress behind them, disappearing into the wall.

The ranger said, "It's in the ground. Watch your feet! Keep shields and swords drawn. Offer it no quarter."

Talion turned to Ursa and said, "Stay close."

"Talion…" she said, "Look."

She pointed up ahead with horror. From the stone wall, illuminated specters emerged. They marched forward with swords drawn. Their flesh was hollow, only a shell of a sickly pale light of the dead. Their faces were empty, and their minds turned to madness.

"The dead call," said the Wraith from the shadows.

"Necromancy," said the Bright Lord, "This one is dangerous, far more than the one we faced in Núrn."

"Keep your weapons drawn. Fight them back!" roared the ranger.

The Orcs began to do battle with the ghosts. The phantoms clashed against their blades and traded blows. Several Uruk fell in an instant. Others, more skillful, landed strikes to the ghosts' heads. As they did, the phantoms let out a dying gasp of air and vanished.

Baranor suddenly said, "Look closely… they wear the armor of my city. These men were… it cannot be. This evil will not go unpunished!"

He roared and charged forward. Idril followed closely, her rage less transparent. The captain swung hard down into one of the ghosts, smiting it where it stood. He and Idril began to duel them, forcing them to retreat backwards.

"Stay back!" said the ranger, "Leave it to the Orcs."

Ursa tried to put aside the comment, even as it stung her. She drew out fire and set it upon the phantoms. They howled and vanished.

"The dead cannot be slain," spoke the dead king, "They fell as men of Gondor and arose eternal, tied down with strings. Pull but a little and their wills bends to my bidding!"

The Nazgul appeared now in the center of Talion's ranks. He slashed down, cutting open an Orcs head. As a goblin reactively swung at him, he launched forward like an arrow, with black smoke trailing behind him. Another Orc's head was removed. Talion fired off an arrow and appeared beside the cloaked phantom. The ranger swung down with his sword. As their blades crossed, he realized he knew this Nazgul. It was the one who had tried to slay Baranor in Minas Ithil, the one with the silver crown. As the revelation hit him, the Nazgul again returned to the ethereal plain only to reappear in the shadows.

Talion said, "Stop running you cowardly dog!"

He now saw the phantoms of the dead appearing all about him. Their puppet master had summoned every last one.

The Bright Lord said, "They are under his spell. We must free their souls."

"How?" asked Talion.

"Bind them, take them for our own, and release them from death."

"I will not bind another man!"

"It is only for a moment. If you do not, their spirits will remain corrupted husks for the enemy to use."

"I... Very well!" said Talion as he grit his teeth.

Talion began to duel with several ghosts at once. He kicked one backwards and blocked the swing of another. He drew out the glave and slashed open their throats. As the phantoms' forms began to fall apart, he grabbed hold of the last one standing. The Bright Lord called upon his ring and wrapped his will around that of the Nazgul. The corruption was overrun as his cruel light conquered it. And so the dead soldier was his.

Talion said, "I release you from this curse."

The soldier let out a gasp of relief.

"Thank you…"

With that, his luminous form was blown away, taken by a gust of wind without origin.

Baranor said, "Protect Talion! He is the only one who can free them!"

Eodes now ran forward.

He turned to Idril and asked, "Are you aright my lady?"

Idril said nothing. She blocked a swing with her shield while sending her blade into the neck of another. Even this would not thwart her. Inside, she felt sick to her stomach as she slew her old comrades. To think that their deaths were preferable…

Idril said, "Do not lower your guard. The Nazgul is-"

She saw a blade plunge through Eodes from behind. The Ringwraith swiftly tore free his blade and spun it to the side. The man's head came rolling off. Idril's eyes widened with shock. She then sealed her mouth tightly and charged forward. Her sword came down on the Nazgul. His blade ran off the edge of hers. He pulled it back and sent it forward with the speed of a lightning bolt. She grunted as it broke apart the side of her buckler. Idril crossed blades with him again as they prepared death blows. Suddenly, Baranor came at the side and slashed at the Wraith. His sword fazed through his black mantle and the Nazgul hid from sight once more.

She said, "Where is he?"

 _I will not break from this._

For all of her thoughts of death and glory, Idril was rational in her own way. She never took on a challenge she could not win or let pure emotion drive her. Even as the Nazgul destroyed her world again, she sought his death whether at her hands or those of her comrades. She would have it.

"It is him!" she said, "The one who slew my father. No, wait. If so then-"

Up ahead, more soldiers appeared from the wall. They split their ranks in two to make way for their leader, the lieutenant. He was a tall phantom without helmet, and with armor far grander than their own. He was an elderly man, but still tall and powerful.

Idril's eyes shook again. She bit down on her lip and drew blood as she felt her stomach tighten. Her mind turned to fire. Her eyes sharpened as she struggled to accept such a terrible fate. Before her, stood her father, transformed into naught but a puppet for the bidding of wicked masters. Stripped of his valor and honor.

The Nazgul spoke, "A gift to the daughter of Minas Ithil. An invitation to reunite with his Grace in death eternal."

Ursa shouted out, "You are a cruel one, Wraith!"

She stretched out her hand and called out, "All Orc are to take to horse and charge the factory. Slay them all! Talion! To me!"

Talion dashed to her side as the phantoms swarmed about them. His back pressed against her own as they watched on all sides for the crowned king

The phantoms dashed forward, some swords drawn and others with spears in hand. Ursa poured fire across the landscape, trying to avoid the lingering allies such as Idril and Baranor. Her flames consumed all around her. From behind, her ranger drew upon the ring and sent blades of ices into them. They came up from the ground and impaled the soldiers, leaving their bodies strung up in the air. He then reached out and began to take their minds before they could vanish. Already, he had freed half a dozen.

By the wall of the fortress, Idril dueled with her father. Her sword collided with his as she continued to charge him. With her buckle close at hand, she knocked his weapon away and sent the sword into his gut. The phantom let out a bellow and vanished, if but for a moment. The Nazgul now appeared over her. Her sword flew through the air and crashed down behind the assassin. She swiftly blocked his next strike with her buckler as his blade dug deep into the wood. Idril drew out her dagger and slashed swiftly at his throat. The Wraith parried a strike to the side and blocked her next blow with the metal shards of his gauntlet. Her captain then swooped down upon him. Baranor exchanged blades and Idril came from the side. The Wraith parried both fighters elegantly as he slowly retreated. Idril suddenly charged forward and rammed her shield at him. Her vicious blow forced the Wraith to focus solely on her, giving Baranor an opening. He swung his sword downwards, but the Nazgul phased through it. He then grabbed Baranor by the throat and slammed him into the wall of the ruins. As the warrior was momentarily stunned, the Ringwraith bashed the back of his sword down into his helm. Baranor collapsed, his mind momentarily slipping away. The Wraith then twisted over his blade and prepared a downward stab.

"Do not touch him" said Idril as she tossed her dagger at him. The Nazgul deflected it and swung his sword at her defenseless form. From behind, she pulled out her sword, having reclaimed it at that moment without his knowing. The Wraith was forced backwards by her surprise attack. He then spun his sword violently while stepping briskly backwards to dodge her swift blows. As he gained distance upon her, he pulled up his arms and prepared another thrust, intending to teleport by her side. Idril glared at him, unsure if she could block it. She remembered him dashing at the Orcs, taking off their heads even as they tried to defend themselves. His speed had proven too fast for even the trained eye to see, and she could not follow his movements.

 _Will I die here?_

Idril rose the remains of her buckler up to her head, hoping to soften the blow. She held her sword forward, ready to spring to the side or slash down if need be. However, she felt death's door calling to her as the Nazgul prepared to devour its prey. Suddenly, Ursa's fire came down upon him. He spun his cloak towards her to block most of it, but still he began to burn.

He hissed and screamed horrifically as her fire swelled around him. However, for all his pain, he ceased his flailing for a moment as if forgoing the pain. He became still and turned to the Witch Queen.

He pointed now to her and said, "I should have killed you first. Your lands will burn, she-Orc."

With that, he left their sight as her fire returned.

Ursa said, "I believe he has retreated."

The ranger said, "A moment will be enough."

Idril said, "Talion… I beg you to free my father from his fate. Do not leave him to suffer so."

"It will be done," he said.

Together they could see Castamir regaining form. First, they saw only a feint glow in the air, impossible to see if one were not looking for it. Soon he took shape and detail, as if embalmed forever in the armor he had worn when he died.

Ursa said, "Deal with him, Talion. I will hold off the others."

"Thank you, Ursa," he said.

He drew out his sword and Idril, hers. They gazed forward at the great general of Minas Ithil.

The ghost said, "Idril…"

"Father…" she said, "I will bring you peace."

She charged forward now and swung at him. She roared as his sword collided with hers. Talion stood behind her, ready to move in should she fail. The general sent a slash upon Idril's cheek as she failed to properly parry his sword. Talion now grabbed for the hilt of his sheathed sword, fearing for her life. Kastamir sent a low swing upwards at her throat, knocking away her blade. He swiftly swung down at her collar, seeing an opening. However, Idril had grown. Her feet moved to the side as his cut ran past her. With a battle cry, Idril ran her sword through his chest, causing him to cry out in pain as if he were still a man of flesh and blood. The ranger charged forward, reaching out with his hand to grab the General by the throat. Celebrimbor was called forth and tore at his mind. He fought to take hold of him, to steal him from the grasp of the puppet master. However, the ring of a Black Rider could not win in the battle against the Bright Lord's own weapon. He took hold of Castamir and released his curse.

The green features of the phantom then turned white. They saw some color on his face. His silver beard, his rosy flesh, his green eyes... Idril knew this man.

"Idril?"

"Father…. It is you."

"Idril, forgive me. I… failed you, I failed my people. Now, I am no more than the puppet of a monster… the final testament of a foolish man."

"Yes," she said, "You were a fool. No one's life is worth the death of our people."

"I know… even so I could bear to lose you. I already lost your mother. I see now I was blind and selfish. I sought always to protect you… to control you when what you needed was to know you were loved."

"I knew you loved me, Father. It was love that turned you to madness."

"No… it was my fear. I should not have traded your life. I should not have chosen for you. I should have fought to protect all that I loved, not to lock it away. I thought if you lived on, nothing else would matter. I did not see that it was destroying you."

He continued, "Idril… I am proud of you. You have become a great warrior of Gondor. Your mother… would be proud to."

From his daughter's face, he saw a single tear fall.

She said, "Go to her, Father. Be by her side as you desire. I will remain here a little longer until my work is done."

"Idril… live on. Even through the pain, know that you are worth living. Be free of me. Be free of all these banes you carry. If you will follow this path, choose it for yourself. Fight for your freedom."

She asked, "Farewell, Father. I love you."

He smiled warmly at her once more and then left the world of the living.

* * *

The battle for the forge was soon over. The Nazgul vanished, likely retreating to Mordor. Knowing their final battle lay elsewhere, he chose to except a momentary loss. His prized weapon would not be handed over to Sauron. As for the rest of his forces, they were soon vanquished. Now at the Warchief's estate, all was about to be decided.

"Eodes…" she said, "He did not live to see my promise through."

Baranor said, "Then we should carry that promise with us… always."

Idril said, "We will."

She then turned to Talion and said, "If you will allow it, these people will remain here a little longer. There are many more camps to liberate."

"I can go with you," said the ranger.

"It would be best not leave your Overlord unattended," she said, "you have your war to fight. I have mine."

"The Orcs are under my command are loyal. If you wish, I will send a battalion with you, yours to command."

She said, "I know of your power. If you were to fall, they would turn on us."

Talion said, "We will not fail, Idril."

"That is my hope. However, Baranor and I have accomplished much on our own. Surely, you would know. You brought only your Queen with you."

"As you wish," said the ranger, "Then I will meet you again in Núrn one day."

Idril shook her head and said, "I will take them to your coast, but I will not stay there. My place is here. Gorgoroth is vast. Even if you conquer the keeps here, hundreds of slaves are scattered in its outer camps. This is where I am meant to be."

She then turned to Baranor and said, "I know I said I would go to Núrn but… I do not think I am ready for peace. War has destroyed that part of me. Perhaps one day, it will return. Then… then I can give you your answer. Yes, I will give you an answer you will like."

"I thought you might say that," said Baranor, "It is the same for all of us. I see it in Talion, in you, and in my own heart. While we still draw breath, we must fight for all that is good. I would not have it any other way. Even if you planned to go to Núrn, I would not leave this plateau."

"So, then this is your choice," she said, "I see. Will you venture with me a little longer, Baranor?"

"I will, my lady."

She smiled at him now. It was one of pain, but also comfort.

 _I am no longer sure of myself. I sought to walk alone, but yet I allowed you to stay with me. Even as I charged into the arms of death, did I still wish to live? I do not know. I have much to think about._

Idril turned to Talion and said, "Thank you, Ranger. I am truly grateful for your courage."

Talion said, "Keep yours close always."

The shield maiden answered, "Farewell Talion… hero of Gondor."

With her captain beside her, the daughter of Minas Ithil trekked away into the ash and fires of Gorgoroth. Her quest was one of madness, but she did not face it alone. Ahead, an uncertain future lay before her. A chance to regain herself or become a great foe of Sauron. To find peace or cast it aside forever. The ranger would never know the answer to her story. They would not meet again.


	21. The Frozen Wasteland and the Elf's Gift

**Chapter Twenty One: The Frozen Wasteland and the Elf Lord's gift**

"Mordor is thought to be a fiery desert, but in the North, it is as cold as the Misty Mountains. Its peaks are so great that they remain capped in snow and ice through the year. Only in the beginning of spring and early summer, do they melt. They then feed into the rivers that form the sea of Núrnen. Yes, the beautiful lake was created from the peaks of Mordor. It nourishes our land, feeds our people, and gives life to our land." – _an entry in Ursa's journal_

* * *

"Overlord Grishnákh, your fortress is surrounded. Your tribes have abandoned you, as have your Warchiefs. Surrender now or we will unleash your war machines upon you."

Talion's voice, fueled by the Wraith, boomed across the desert as he gazed at the fortress before him. Beside him were four trolls, each armed with a fire canon created by the Machine tribe. Close to him stood Ursa atop her horse, clad in her war armor. Behind them, was a line of soldiers, prepared to charge when ordered.

At the front of the fortress, a green-skinned troll stood on his balcony. He roared through a twisted horn that sent his voice thundering to the army below.

Grishnákh cried out, "Ha! Your rabble are no match for my grand army! This wall will hold for weeks! Bang on my door all you like, man-filth! When you're spent, go and march your sorry arses back to Núrn!"

Overlord Ursa said calmly to her husband, "Well, we did warn him."

"Yes we did…" said the ranger, "Charge!"

* * *

Overall, the siege had lasted about two weeks. Finally, on the fourteenth day, Talion's trolls broke through the wall. It was here the defending Overlord's armored division arose to drive them back. However, the trolls were ready. Tied to their backs were the canons of fire. They grabbed hold of them and pulled on their levers. The fire spewed out into the armored ranks, driving them back. Those with wooden shields shrieked in fear as the fire latched on to them and found ways into the armor of even the most well-defended Uruk. It was not long before the ranger and the Witch Queen joined the charge, flooding the army with ice and fire. Within the next three days, Gorgoroth's fortress was nearly won. All that remained to be taken was the throne room.

As the gates came came crashing open from their battering gram, Talion sent in a dozen Uruk ahead armed with crossbows. They lay down fire and began to pick off the Overlord's archers. The Overlord Grishnákh sat proudly on his throne. As the ranger approached, he began to rise.

"Pitiful tark!" he roared as he pointed a finger at his assailant, "I have ruled this land for a century. You will not take it from me! No, you will not!"

From the side of his throne, he pulled up a pair of axes, each the size of a long sword. He swung his arms, causing his weapons to slice through the air. The ranger now charged forward, with a group of Ologs in tow. They collided with the enemy. Talion fired off an arrow and appeared before an Orc, gashing into its neck. He vanished again and slew another goblin. He then stabbed his blade into the stomach of a troll. Its thick hide stopped the blade only a few inches into its gut. It spat at him and slammed its hammer down, but he had already vanished. In that moment, he went for the Overlord. He sent ice across the floor. The goblins began to slide. As for the troll lord, he cursed in black speech as he broke out of the ice climbing up his legs. He then began to swing his axe violently. The ranger pulled back on the string of his bow and appeared over his head. As he regained his footing atop Grishnákh's shoulders, Talion took hold of his dagger and began to jam it into the troll's collarbone, between the openings in his thick, golden armor.

The Overlord shouted, "Get off me, tark!"

One of Grishnákh's bodyguards tossed a javelin up at his back. The ranger leapt off as the spear bounced off the Olog's armor. Talion rolled across the ground, now scrambling on the ice he had made. He called in his troops to defend him as he recovered. Grishnákh roared as he spun his axes about him like a whirlwind of iron and blood. He cut apart any that got too close.

The ranger pulled out his bow and prepared for another shot, this one an arrow to stun him.

Grishnákh said, "Gravewalker! I will not part piece of my treasure nor an inch of land! I will take your skull, your armor, and your fine robes... and make them part of my collection. As for your flesh, it will be served to m-AAAGH!"

The Overlord caught fire now as Ursa cooked him from head to toe. She stretched out her hand as she continued to send waves of fire up his body. Meanwhile, her guard surrounded her with box shields, keeping the arrows of enemies away from their queen. From a small opening in their defenses, she gazed at her prey and began to burn him alive. However, she did not wish to kill him.

The Olog-Hai now charged at Ursa, even as her flames ate at him between his armor.

"She-Orc worm! I will be sure to gut you!"

He tossed aside the goblins that ran to stop him, and knocked aside the Olog that was guarding Ursa. The Witch Queen sent a wall of fire out in front of her. He reeled back as it stung his flesh. These flames were far hotter than those burning at his flesh. These threatened to incinerate him if he so much as touched them, and even singed her own flesh.

Ursa said, "Talion! Take him down now!"

From behind, the ranger sent out a river of ice. It flooded over the troll and held him there so that he could not walk backwards. It wrapped around his legs and back. From the front, her flames were also surrounding him. If he tried to move forward another few feet, it would surely burn away his eyes. The Bright Lord now appeared above the frozen Olog, and landed on his back. He grasped hold of his head and dug into his mind. Grishnákh flailed as he could, the flames now biting him and the ice breaking from his immense strength. However, the Bright Lord's will was stronger. In a moment, Grishnákh's valor was superseded by that of the Wraith. He fell to his knees in submission.

* * *

Talion now sat in the throne of the defeated Overlord. Grishnákh stood by his left side, the branding having taken hold. In the Bright Lord's lap sat his Queen. Ursa, dressed in softer robes and her golden crown, leaned her head against his as they discussed their victory.

Ursa said, "I would like to arm our siege trolls with these 'Lak Bal'… bows of fire in my tongue. Smaller clubs will do once the flames of the Lak Bal are spent."

Talion said, "There is the matter of the fuel. It is found only in pits here in Gorgoroth."

"Then we must mine," said Ursa, "We will build more factories here. But Talion… this fuel is dangerous. It is not simply like fuel like wood. Once the fire begins, it cannot be put out. I hear that many Orcs were burned to death when it exploded. It fumes are like a fog, and a simple spark can ignite it. We should keep are dealings here secret. The plans must remain known only to the engineers and miners.

The Bright Lord now appeared before them and said, "We will keep the planners and smiths of the Machine tribe under strict guard."

"I promised them," said Ursa, "We will allow them to build other weapons."

"That is of no concern," said Celebrimbor, "Brand them at once so that they cannot speak of the secret."

The Overlord said, "Surely, this promise can be honored. Such bright minds could create us many weapons as marvelous as this one."

Celebrimbor said, "Indeed. However, only weapons meant for war are needed. Not foolish toys."

"Very well," said Ursa with a sigh of defeat.

The Bright Lord said, "It will take time to control all of Gorgoroth. Once our business here is done, we should send half of the army to Núrn to brace for the enemy's next move."

The Ranger said, "Yet several more territories await. Seregost and Cirith Ungol are ripe for the taking."

Ursa said, "Seregost… The frozen North... A land of beauty and unrelenting cold. The fortress there is ancient, almost as old as the foundations of Barad-dûr. That aside, it is not home to any formidable Orcs or black captains. We should have little difficulty conquering it."

The Bright Lord said, "A land of ice… a fitting domain to make our own."

Ursa then said, "My lord, you asked what do with the army here, of where to place it. Of that, I have an idea."

* * *

Atanáro soared in through a snow flurry, as another blizzard was passing through Seregost. He let out a majestic roar as he felt the wind bite at him while flew free through the tundra. The dragon rider struggled to see the scape before him as snow latched onto his face. As he exhaled, his breath poured out like steam. Bundled in gloves, boots, and thick fur, he now entered the frozen wasteland. Down below, he could see chains of small, snow-capped mountains. Far in the back, were the borders of Mordor, the great peaks of Seregost. This was where the Overlord awaited in his ancient fortress. For now, the ranger spied dozens of small camps and outposts, as well as an old-stone fortress connected to an underground mine. It seemed the Uruk were busy here. All of Mordor toiled as Sauron prepared for his return.

* * *

The following morning, Ursa and Talion remained camped inside of an abandoned Caragor cave. A blazing fire roared outside, a risk indeed, but needed to survive the cold night. Atanáro remained outside, coiled into a ball of sorts. His heated breath kept him warm through the snowfall.

"There now," said Talion as he pet his drake upon the nuzzle.

Atanáro's yellow eyes opened to gaze at his master and then shut again as he began to rest. As he slept, puffs of smoke continued to shoot out of his nostrils. Talion smiled and then returned inside to aid his wife. Ursa was gathering their rations to prepare a spot of breakfast. Immediately, he began to help her, letting their hands meet as they worked.

Talion said, "Right now, Inga will be having her breakfast prepared."

His wife answered, "What I would give to be the one preparing it."

"As would I," said Talion, "Forgive me. I should not have spoken so. I…"

"You miss her too," said Ursa, "Last night, I stayed awake doing some… calculations. It will be another month here in Seregost at the very least, with likely another month spent in Cirith Ungol. Measuring the flight back home, we will return in four months, if all goes to plan."

"Four more months…"

She said, "It is… already unbearable. If not for you here…"

Talion pressed his head against hers once more. He had become accustomed to sharing their bond this way. To putting aside all words and shutting their eyes to the world. It was as if their bodies were now one, and they could feel each other's pain and loneliness. In that bond, they found some solace.

At last, they pulled away.

Talion said, "After we eat, I will depart for a day. I must go and take the nearby outpost. It will be a more fitting home for you."

Ursa said, "Before you go… while we are alone, I would like to test something."

"A test? What sort of test?" asked Talion with suspicion.

"I want to better understand your ring."

Celebrimbor now appeared before them.

The Overlord said to him, "My lord, I have been pondering over the many ways this war may play out. It would be best if we understood just what it is you forged."

"There are no secrets to this ring… not to me," said Celebrimbor proudly.

Ursa answered, "When Saruman drew you out of Talion, I would say he was exorcising you. Taking a wraith from its host requires great magic. Afterwards, it left Talion dying, his wounds reappearing. The Black Captain again tried this. I suspect the ring can change that. If a sorcerer as great as Sauron attempts it, I wonder if Talion can survive for a time to retrieve you."

"The ring would protect me from such sorcery," said the Wraith, "What is your meaning here? Do you wonder if Talion could survive without myself, living off the life force within my ring?"

Ursa said, "My meaning is to know. I know you are curious too, Lord Celebrimbor.

"Hmmm" he said, "Then let us see."

* * *

Outside the cave, the three lords stood in a circle as they discussed Ursa's experiments.

She said, "Before the ring, you were able to walk away from Talion about… fifty paces, yes? What happens beyond that?"

Talion said, "I begin to feel ill and weakened."

"Indeed," said the Wraith, "Stepping away weakens us both. An inconvenience for the sake of your privacy."

Talion said, "To which we are grateful."

His tone most definitely did not sound grateful to the Wraith.

Ursa then said, "I would like you to go farther. Much farther. Then return as quickly as you can."

"Very well," said Celebrimbor.

The Wraith dashed away now, with the speed he often granted Talion. Within a moment, he had vanished from their sight, through the rocky scape of the valley's bottom. Ursa now gazed at Talion. The ranger waited anxiously to see if he would feel the pain and horror of death's true embrace. However, he seemed fine. He neither collapsed nor bled. Within a few minutes, the Wraith returned.

Ursa asked, "With the ring, I am sure you could venture quite far. Was there a point where you felt he connection sever?"

"Yes," said the Wraith, "About half a league."

"That far? Then you two could hunt together at times," said Ursa.

"We could," said Celebrimbor, "But my power is halved when I leave his body."

Ursa said, "Then Talion would be safe, as would you. The ring can sustain him."

"I suppose," said the Elf lord, a bit perplexed.

Ursa said, "I have another peculiar question. Please humor me a little longer. What would happen if I wore the ring or you entered my body?"

The Wraith said, "I cannot be certain. If you wore the ring, you should be able to wield it. Rings are not bound to their masters… although their power is greatest when united. I imagine you could summon all but me and the weapons I possess. Now, if I entered you, I would have to first break my blood pact with Talion. After doing so, the ring would continue to sustain him, but he would lose his power and unity with the ring. It would still serve him well, but without the Bright Lord, it would not compare. And should he take off the ring for even a moment, he would surely die."

Ursa said, "So there is some freedom in how power is distributed between the possessor, the host, and the ring itself.*

Celebrimbor continued, "Yes. On the other hand, if I possessed you, you could summon me as Talion did before the ring, but without the other half of my life force, it would again, not compare. That is my belief. It is not something I wish to test."

Ursa said, "Can it not be tested?"

Celebrimbor said, "I would need to use a blood sacrifice to enter you. No longer does Talion anchor me to this world, it is the ring alone. Even so, I cannot possess another without great effort. Saruman expended much to take hold of Marwen's mind and it was an imperfect thing."

Talion said, "This all seems needlessly complicated."

The Bright Lord says, "Be grateful I can speculate on such things. This is the result of splitting my essence… understanding the scales of power is difficult."

Celebrimbor then turned to Ursa and said, "So it will not be tested. The risks are too great. Now tell me… Ursa… why have such thoughts entered your mind?"

She said, "I cannot forget what Saruman and the Black Hand tried to do. Now we face Nazgul… we face the Witch King. I am sure, when next you meet, he will try to take sever your connection… all to make Talion a Nazgul as he promised."

"I see," said the Wraith, "It is as I said. The ring will protect us. You need not worry."

"Very well my lord," said the Overlord, "Thank you for satiating my curiosity."

Ursa turned away and looked towards the great wilderness before them. A vicious wind now brought a fresh layer of snow down upon them. Her gaze narrowed as the cogs and gears of her mind turned. A new danger had been growing in her mind for some time now. Questions of treachery were whispered. A warning of another power as deadly as Sauron. She did not believe it to be true, but she chose now to prepare. However, this was only a warning in her heart. She had been honest with her words. Ever since Talion had spoken of his two brushes with death, those dangers never left Ursa's mind. That was why she had so eagerly allowed them to forge a ring of power, not simply to overthrow the Dark Lord. She sought a power to sustain Talion and now she better understood how it could.

* * *

Ursa rubbed her hands as she strode through a pathway blanketed with snow. She shivered as it drained her of her heat. With her weak body, Seregost was a poor environment for her. She was clad in furs and robes, but the cold still it bit at her. By her side walked the Ranger and Celebrimbor. They had put aside their main quest for a day to investigate an old path. Here it was said that an old Orc treasury lay, a stash revealed to them by a worm. It belonged to the Marauder tribe who were infamous for their love of gold, jewels, and all manner of collections. There was no particular reason for this visit. It seemed only that Ursa and Talion had tired of weeks of hunting and flying. For whatever reason, the single-minded Wraith had agreed to it as well. A day of rest.

Ursa looked to the side as they walked and stopped in her tracks. She was looking at the ice formations of a cave beside them. They were arranged like mirrors. Long shards of icicles shone her reflection clearly to her. At the foot of the blue formation grew large cubes of ice. As rays of light hit them, they glistened like jewels. Further in, she looked upon pillars of blue ice deep in the cave's labyrinth. These too glimmered.

She smiled and said, "So beautiful."

The Bright Lord said, "You think so? Let me show you something…"

He turned to Ursa and said, "Hold out your hand."

Ursa titled her head in curiosity and did as he asked.

Celebrimbor reached out the ranger's hand and the ring began to hum. Like the beautiful creations in the cave, it glowed a gentle blue. Suddenly, small ice crystals, as thin as dust, were drawn up from the air and landed in the half-Orc's palm. They molded together now. In a moment, they had bonded into ice and taken the shape of a fowl. It was a swan with its wings spread apart, landing atop water that seemed to wrap around it, creating a cage like an orb. Ursa gasped in awe as she looked upon it.

She said, "Lord Celebrimbor… thank you. It is lovely."

Talion blinked in confusion from the gesture.

He asked, "Are you trying to win her favor?"

"Be silent. A moment will not harm you," said the Bright Lord before turning his attention to Ursa, "This is what is possible with the ring. Not simply war, but beauty, finer than any on the earth."

Ursa said, "I did not know you thought of such things… ah… How silly of me. After all, you were once a fine artisan and ring-maker."

"Indeed," said the Wraith, "I once carved and gilded with iron, bronze, gold, and silver… now the elements themselves are my ingots. A canvas of a raw ore to mold and fashion… This too is your power, to mold and create. Your fire. And my ice. Both these tools are yours, to use as you choose. Ursa, you will be the Queen of this new world."

"A queen of all of Mordor?"

"You knew this day would come when the ring was forged."

She said, "I did… Even so, I still cannot fathom it. It is the one thing I am forbidden from seeing even as it unfolds."

Ursa smiled at him and said, "It is beautiful. Thank you."

Talion blinked and said, "Well then... let's be off. There will be some Marauders protecting their horde."

They then resumed their journey, traversing through a narrow canyon between the roots of the mountain. Within another ten minutes, they reached the end of this road. Here they saw a patrol of Orc watching over a crevice in the mountain. Each one was clad in ornate gold and silver, as well as small jewels. A peculiar sight as Orc were known for their love of bone trophies and bladed armor.

The ranger now overtook them. He fired an arrow into the head of one Orc. The others now quickly charged at him, screaming obscenities and promises that their gold would not be taken without their cold dead corpses appearing first. In turn, the ranger drew out his sword and met the guards in combat. As another slipped around him, the Wraith's hand came to block its spear, grabbing it by the shaft. He then drew out a small luminous dagger and slit its throat. The goblin was left baffled, not knowing what held his weapon there. The ranger swiftly dealt with the remaining Orcs.

Ursa said, "It is as I thought, you two can fight together. I am glad, Celebrimbor, that you know some freedom."

"I have freedom," said the Wraith, "All that I need."

"Look here, Ursa! Come quickly!" said Talion, beckoning to her.

She ran over to him quickly in excitement. She followed Talion to the small cave the goblins were guarding. Talion used the eyes of the Wraith to make sure it was empty. He then led Ursa inside. The Overlord looked about at their plunder. On the ground were gold coins of men, as well as jewels stolen from many lands.

The Bright Lord said, "I will send Orcs to fetch it. There is enough coin to be of some worth."

Ursa said, "For the people of Núrn. Our Orc have no need of it."

She then said, "Look here."

In the back of the room, was a wooden chair, polished and well put together. Along the side were intricate carvings of horsemen and their steeds. The wood was a deep brown with specks of red.

She asked, "Horses? Could they be Rohirrim?"

Talion said, "I think so. The horselords were famous for their mastery of the steed and their talent in carpentry."

"I wonder how it came to be so far from home?" asked the Overlord.

"Years of bartering," said the ranger, "Who knows its story? This wood is elm. Ah, a fine chair."

Ursa asked, "Talion, I didn't know you were knowledgeable of carpentry."

The ranger rubbed the back of his hair in embarrassment and said, "I... I wanted to be a carpenter when was young. I would carve small wooden horses, slingshots, and.. a few chairs…"

Talion then said, "I suppose you could say that was my dream. Well, the dream of a child."

Ursa said, "I did not know… when this war is over, perhaps you could see it through? I would love to have something made by you, my love."

"Perhaps. But that is a long ways off, and for the best. It would be something to devote myself wholly too."

"Talion the Carpenter…" said the Wraith softly, "That is something I would like to see."

The ranger looked at Celebrimbor for a second, at his sudden warmth.

He then said, "Well, let us be off. I see nothing small enough to carry that is not gold or jewels. Are there any you would like for your collection Ursa?"

"None," she said, "I already have one. Ah… I suppose it will melt if I bring it back to Núrn."

She then said, "I think I shall take it to the fortress, to rest atop the front gate. A jewel more beautiful than any here… I hope it will shine brightly for all time."

With that, the Overlord carried Celebrimbor's creation back to the path of the keep. They left the horde of treasures untouched for a time, having no need of it. For Ursa, her many treasures were already by her side, save for the one she longed for by the sea.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Celebrimbor telling Talion he wanted to see his work as a carpenter is from the game's dialogue. It's probably my favorite interaction between them. It's one of the few times they are not at odds, but share a brotherly love. A "bromance" if you will.


	22. The Last Hunt and the Rohirrim

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The Last Hunt and the Fallen of the Rohirrim**

"Wake up…"

A familiar voice through the mist spoke to her.

"Wake up, Captain!" said the hoarse voice again, "It is time to wake up!"

Ursa awoke to see the grey-skinned Uruk-Hai that was her lieutenant. He stood up tall, taller than most Uruk. Despite his Orcish skin, his face was almost human-like, save for his black eyes and jaws filled with sharp fangs. His long white dreadlocks draped about him as he peered down at her. She had always thought him more handsome than other Uruk.

"Isulek…"

"Captain," he answered, "Where have you been? I thought… I thought you had abandoned me."

Ursa awoke now from her slumber. She found herself lying in a bundle of thick furs. This was the chamber of a Warchief, yet another she had made her home. Just as with the Overlord in Gorgoroth, this was her haven until Seregost's great fortress was taken.

As came to her senses, her mind recalled the vivid dream. She remembered her loyal lieutenant who had helped her ascend to the position of captain. He had given it to her, saying her mind was needed more than his brawn. Although he often doubted her, he remained loyal.

"Isulek… are you alright?" she wondered, half hoping he could hear her.

It had been many years since she had been to Udûn. She had entrusted the fortress of Udakrûk to him, as well all her lands there. She wondered what had become of them. Likely, word of her treason had spread throughout Mordor. Her lands may have been left in Isulek's care or taken from him. Perhaps he was imprisoned or executed as an accomplice. She could not know. As of late, all official trade and news had halted from Mordor. Ursa could only hope her old friend was okay. Even if he was, she doubted he wanted to see her again. He had been a proud Uruk, even if accepting of her unorthodox approaches. For her to betray Mordor would have been to betray him. In the end, wasn't he just a tool she had used and thrown away? It was better Isulek never saw her face again.

The Overlord sighed and tried to return to sleep. However, up above she saw something on the ceiling. Ursa gasped in fear as she realized it was a massive spider clinging to the mantle of her bed. Ursa pulled out her hand defensively, creating a shield of fire over her as she scrambled to the back of the bed. The Ungol did not move.

"Overlord Ursa…. Forgive my… intrusion… I come with… message."

"A-Ah," said Ursa, "Are you Madargon?"

The Ungol answered, "Yes… that is the name… you gave me. I have word… for you… and the Bright Lord."

"I see," said the Overlord, "Come down now to the foot of my bed. Why are you up there Madargon?"

"I… was checking if… you were asleep…"

The Ungol then left a great web strand as she lowered herself to the ground. Her red eyes now focused on Ursa, or at least they appeared to. Ursa wondered if she was focused on her, or watching the entire room all at once. Either way, the spider-like creature bowed accordingly.

She then said, "I was found…. Again by the… Elf assassin…. Forgive me…"

Ursa said, "Do not worry of it. Tell me, was this assassin the Elf called Eltariel?"

"It was, Master… She disturbed my web… on the border of… this land. She said to… send Talion to the… Barad Silme… A Nazgul approaches…"

"Nazgul…." said Ursa, "Surely they are planning to take the towers here. I will not let them."

She then beamed at the spider and said, "Thank you for coming all this way to warn us."

"It is… nothing"

"Even so," said Ursa, "Your services have been invaluable. If you ever crave a fresh swine or goat, I will give it to you."

"Ah… swine… I will remember… many thanks, Master."

The spider bowed once more and crept out the window. Ursa realized then that she was shivering. Somehow, the spider had managed to undo the window's lock, or perhaps her smaller allies had. Either way, Ursa felt as if she was close to freezing to death. That was when she laughed at her own shortsightedness. She took a deep breath and let out a cloud of steam. Ursa began to summon her fire in its weakest state of being. Small embers occasionally appeared in the air. All around her, the room was becoming warmer, as was she.

"I suppose I will never shiver," she said, "Finally, a beautiful use for this power."

With her power now activated, the Overlord walked out of her room without blanket, wearing a simple cloak. She slowly trotted into the throne room where she expected her husband to be. She saw on the throne, the Bright Lord sitting idle. To his left was the dominated Warchief standing erect. All about the room were branded Uruk ready to leap into action if anything threatened their masters.

"You are awake," said the Wraith softly.

Ursa glided over to him and bowed lightly.

She said, "Yes… I have a message from our Ungol. Eltariel seeks our aid here in Seregost. A Ringwraith has appeared on our borders."

"I see… this must be dealt with swiftly."

"Where is Lord Talion?" she asked.

"Practicing his swordplay in the courtyard."

"He is out in the cold?"

"It would seem so," replied the Wraith.

"He will freeze to death," she said as she began to scurry towards the great doors at the front of the keep.

Celebrimbor said, "He is safe. Leave him be for a moment. He must clear his head before our next mission."

Ursa stopped in her tracks. She then pouted and turned back towards the throne.

She said, "I wish he would not. His skills will not dull so quickly. He should rest while he can."

"Hmmm" said Celebrimbor, emitting a noise in his throat. Some might think it was a scoff, but Ursa saw it as something else entirely.

"My lord," asked Ursa, "What is so humorous?"

"It is nothing…"

She smiled and asked, "What is it? I have never heard you laugh."

"I…"

He shut his mouth for a second and let out a sigh as he tried to regain his composure. He then gazed upon her more closely.

Celebrimbor answered quietly, "You remind me of her… my wife. She would always fret and worry so… Scared, fragile, but… wise in many things."

"You've never spoken of your wife before."

"I rather not to… After I mourned her, I decided never to think of her again. It would only hinder me. Even so… seeing you run to him for something so small, it rekindled those memories."

Ursa was a bit embarrassed by the comparison, but decided she wished to know more.

She asked, "You sound fond of her… you liked that she worried, that she cared."

"I did," he said, "I was often absent-minded of my own health. She would make me stay in bed when I was left exhausted from my craft. She was always perceptive of such things."

His gaze then became sad.

He said, "When Sauron the Deceiver came before me, dressed as Annatar, as one of my own, she warned me that he was not trustworthy. She did not suspect he was a Dark Lord, only that something about him seemed amiss. No other Elf seemed to share this opinion. She was right."

Ursa said, "To see through Sauron's deceptions… I am impressed."

The Overlord then told him, "You truly loved her… Even after thousands of years, you recall her so vividly. Thank you, Lord Celebrimbor, for sharing…. Now I think I shall go to Talion. I wish to worry and spoil him a little longer."

The Bright Lord said almost warmly, "Do as you like."

* * *

Outside, the ranger practiced in the snow-laden courtyard. In the center of the grounds, was a statue of Sauron himself, wielding a sword and mace. It stood tall, matching the height of the roof of the estate. For now, the air was silent. The Orcs were making noise, but they were in the barracks and outside of the grounds. Right now, all was peaceful.

Ursa gazed at Talion. His eyes were lost from the world, with all his attention placed on his sword itself. He swung it downward again and again, letting out a battle cry as he did. Each time, he cut it through the air perfectly straight, using his unbridled strength to control it. He then began to swing it about, his posture and footwork impeccable. Each time he finished a strike, his sword and positioning would shift to another stance. These were the old styles taught to soldiers and rangers in Gondor. The styles that had overcome the crude swordsmanship of the Orc time and time again.

As he moved, Talion panted and sweated. His long hair poured down his face, obscuring his cold, blue eyes. Lost in his training, Ursa swooned over him. She had never gotten to see him train like this. She thought it was lovely to see him train alone, so focused and serious outside of battle. So masculine, handsome, and strong as he refined his body and mind.

At last, the ranger ended his session. He put away his sword, sliding it into its scabbard. He turned to see Ursa standing there.

He said, "You are dressed too lightly."

He ran up to her and draped his cloak over her. She blushed form his chivalry, but let out a giggle.

She said, "Feel my hands…"

He slid his over hers. He looked at her in bewilderment.

"Are you with fever?" he asked, well alarmed now.

"I am not. Is this really so strange?"

The ranger's gaze then relaxed as he scoffed a bit, having understood it at last.

"I did not know you could control it so."

"Neither did I…"

She said, "I liked seeing you train… You were beautiful."

"My form has become a bit rough. I've been relying too much on the Wraith and the ring… Well, since he can roam freely, I decided to spend the morning like this, devoted to practice."

She said, "Sword-Master Talion… may I come again to watch?"

"Of course… well, when next I have a moment to practice."

She grinned at him and said, "Then I shall."

"Ah… I forgot" she began.

The Overlord sighed now, clearly frustrated and vexed by something.

"I suppose I should not wait to deliver my message. Our Ungol sends word. A Nazgul draws near."

* * *

Amidst one of Seregost's smaller outposts lay an ancient tower. Around it were broken buildings, piles of stone brick, fires, and cages of furious Caragor. This was a camp of at least a hundred Uruk. Their Warlord had warned them that the Gravewalker was drawing near. Word was spreading amongst them that Mordor's power was shifting. All of Núrn had fallen, and rumor spread now that Gorgoroth had been lost as well. All wondered at the might of the Tark that had won over thousands of Orc. What madness had caused them to betray the Dark Lord, cruel and all-powerful? Was it spell or charisma? Either way, few planned to defect. Instead, Seregost was placed under high alert.

However, they were all of them… dead. Not a single goblin had survived. A silent hunter had slain them from behind, from above, and as silent as a whisper.

Atop the tower sat the assassin. As the wind cut at her face, she hummed an ancient song into it. The wind carried her voice away, silencing her presence in the outpost. Behind her was a dead Orc archer who had bled out an hour ago.

She sang to the stars:

 _In the break of day,_

 _In the great breath of night…_

 _I listen closely for your song… oh beautiful bells._

 _Oh, silver trumpets, I miss your ring._

 _In the silence about me, I can only stop and sing…_

 _Along the frozen stream, I walk alone…_

 _Dancing for a tune that I no longer hear._

 _What I would give to have your melody reach my ear._

 _The day will come when I am called home…_

 _T_ _he bells, even now they call me. "Return home… return home and find peace. Your dawn is at hand."_

"A beautiful song… who was its creator?"

A masculine voice to break her peace and focus. Eltariel remained sitting, relaxed on the side of the tower. Behind her, the Gravewalker stood tall, gazing down at her.

She at last answered him, "Gwindor… a hunter who served my lady, Galadriel. An Elf of Lothlórien."

"'tis a sad song, I think."

"You think so?" she asked, "It is a promise to my people that have lost their way… all paths lead home. A promise that Lothlórien would be waiting."

Talion asked, "Is that where you seek to be? Back in the lands of peace?"

Eltariel laughed lightly and said, "The place I seek is right here, between Sauron and his conquest. Now ranger, shall we hunt?"

He said, "Indeed. Seeing it is safe, I will summon my companion."

"Companion?" she asked, "What companion?"

Talion said, "The Overlord of Núrn…. And my wife."

"Ah…" she said, "The Witch."

* * *

Below, Ursa rode atop her horse. Her eye darted from left to right as she observed the carnage. She was now used to seeing the carnage of war, but for some reason, this caused her to feel uneasy. When Talion fought, he only slew Uruk that attacked him or had to be eliminated. However, it seemed this Elf had slain the entire camp, likely including those who had run away. As Ursa looked ahead, she gasped in shock. Her stomach turned to rot.

Up above, she saw the slain Uruk captain hanging there from the tower. A rope was tied around his head, knotted tightly to one of the columns up above.

Ursa glared. She gazed directly at the rope and her disdain poured out from her. The rope immediately caught fire. The Orc corpse now fell down at her feet. The Overlord looked up to see Talion staring down at her. He quickly lept down and joined her.

He said, "Ursa… what's wrong?"

The Elf now flipped backwards, as if falling to her death intentionally. She then reached out as she spun in the air and grabbed hold of a ledge. Eltariel gracefully slid down the remainder of the wall, until she reached the ground beside Talion and Ursa.

"She really is a half-Orc. I've only seen a few and never a woman." said Eltariel.

Ursa said calmly, "You must be Eltariel. Talion has told me of your skill with a blade."

Eltariel said, "I have been tracking this wraith for a month. Right now, he is gathering Orcs to be his chosen. With the Orcs dead here, I-"

"Some of these Orcs were our own," said Ursa suddenly, "Spies sent to guard the Barad Silme."

Eltariel said, "Oh? They seemed hostile. I suppose you will have to gather more."

Ursa remained focused on her as she said, "Even if they had been Sauron's, it would not have mattered. They are not yours to use for sport."

Eltariel blinked in surprise and said, "Ah… I hadn't thought of this happening. An oversight I admit. In any case, there is no reason to become grave over so little a thing. Your husband has slain hundreds, I am sure."

"For necessity's sake," said Ursa, "To hang a corpse like a trophy for your pleasure is an evil thing."

Eltariel said, "Oh? Don't you Orc do the same? I've seen the bones of men in your camps, along with those of beasts."

"That does not excuse you," said Ursa, "Besides, I do not permit such trophies in my army."

The Elf said, "Then you are an exception to the ways of your people."

Ursa said, "As one ally to another, this is not permissible."

"Talion, do speak some sense to your wife. We are hunting here."

Talion said, "Ursa… let us speak of this later."

The Overlord said, "I know now isn't the time but… if it had been the corpse of man, would you do nothing, Talion? Can you cannot fathom how this appears to me?"

The ranger thought over her words carefully, considering his own feelings of the Orc and what he had seen from Ursa's philosophy.

Talion looked to Eltariel and said, "Ursa is right… I admit I have beheaded their leaders to breed fear but… I have never killed for pleasure."

Eltariel said, "I did not expect this. I did not think I would be reprimanded for how I treat Orc. I will not apologize for I have done nothing wrong. What will you do, she-Orc? Will you shatter our alliance?"

Ursa sunk her head and said, "No. It will continue."

The assassin replied, "I thought so. I would be surprised if a ruler such as yourself could not compromise."

Eltariel then said, "For the sake of this alliance, I will refrain from glamorous hunts in your lands. Is that acceptable?"

Ursa then said, "It is. Thank you."

"Now," said the Elf, "To matters. To matters. Several Haedir have been claimed, but none in your lands it would seem. This will be the first in Seregost."

The Bright Lord said, "What can you tell us of this Nazgul? You said it was formidable."

"Indeed," said Eltariel, "He and I have history. The Nazgul are cunning and swift… he is quite the opposite. He fights like a madman, unleashing might upon all his foes. When he falls into his rage, he is difficult to quell."

Talion asked, "What is the name of this one? Do you know?"

"I do not know the names of them all… He wields a great hammer that can shatter stone and skull with ease. He dresses in a helm fashioned with horns like a beast. I call him: The Goat."

Talion said nothing and Ursa tilted her head in confusion.

Eltariel said, "Talion, you really are humorless, aren't you?"

The Bright Lord said, "He is coming here?"

"Any minute now, I am sure. I-"

From above, the black smoke of the Nazgul appeared. The ground shattered as Talion pushed Ursa back out of the way, saving her from a swing that would have surely obliterated her. Eltariel flipped backwards, landing nimbly on her feet. The black-cloak of the Ringwraith blew as the snow storm returned. Even so, its cold could not match that of his own, the freezing touch of the dead.

Eltariel said to him, "I must admit you are here sooner than I expected. If you are here, then you have not forged enough chosen for your ritual. You have sacrificed victory for a failed ambush."

"Be silent!" said the Nazgul, "Once you are dead, the ritual will begin unhindered. Shatter now with your pitiful resistance."

"Behind us!" said Talion. He saw Caragor riders and javelin throwers approaching from the distance.

Eltariel said, "You two deal with the war party. He's mine."

She pulled out her blade and held it close to her lips. She then slid her tongue across the edge of it as she focused on her prey.

Ursa quickly climbed up her horse and fled towards the back of the battle. As she did, she sent a wall of fire that burned away her pursuers. The Gravewalker followed after her, firing arrows as he fled. With a skillful shot, he sent a ghostly arrow into the head of a wolf. It yelped and flipped over onto its back as it stumbled about, crushing its rider as it landed. Suddenly, a black Caragor came pouncing down upon the enemy ranks. Following it were foot soldiers branded by Talion. Ursa and her lover had not come without aid. It seemed that it would only take but a minute to win this battle.

Eltariel flipped through the air over the hook of the hammer. She landed behind him and sent a kick onto his back. The Ringwraith hissed and swung his hand around. She ducked below it and slashed forward with her dagger. Her blade passed through her prey as the Nazgul entered the ethereal plain. He was consumed within the plumes of black smoke that rose above her. Eltariel quickly drew out the light of Galadriel as the smoke fell down upon her, its warmth shielding her from all evil. His magic had been meant to blind her as he delivered his blow. The Ringwraith appeared outside of her defenses, waiting for her to dispel it. The Elf pulled out her bow and began to fire shots into his cloak. He shrugged them off, ignoring all pain, and charged her with all speed. He reached out with his free hand and sent a fist at her jaw. As he swung it, his hammer was close behind. Eltariel's eyes watched his movements with great care. She rotated to beside his chest as his fist grazed the air beside her. She swiftly lowered herself down to her knees so that his hammer was dodge entirely. As she rotated, her daggers slid across his knees. The Ringwraith howled in pain. He then stepped backwards and sent another blow of his hammer upon her. She rolled way from his crushing swing, and returned to her feet.

She wondered, "Where is he aiming? He seems distracted."

Her eyes looked to the hole he had dug with his blade. All around it, cracks were beginning to form.

The Nazgul said, "Darkness awakens. Let it take you by storm."

In that moment she realized he had been trying to both kill her and awaken his allies. It seemed he had learned something in all their years of battle. Yes, from the earth, his hammer served as a call for the small hunters, alerting them that prey was near. Out of the broken earth, small, pale creatures shaped like shrunken corpses poured out. They chirped and hissed as they came to the surface. Without eyes, they let out shrieks to find their prey. They snapped their jaws and swung their claws as they attacked the Elf. As for the Nazgul, they dared not approach it. Its dread alone subjugated them.

Eltariel's eyes widened in shock as she saw the nest awaken. She quickly began to scale the side of the tower to escape them. Hundreds were pouring out.

The Overlord shouted, "Talion! Ghouls! We've stumbled upon a nest of them!"

They poured over the ranger's Orcs, rending them to pieces in their great numbers.

"My lord, save me!" shouted an Orc as he was pulled away, arm stretched out and eyes full of fear. The ghouls took him deep underground to never be seen again.

The ranger drew out the ring and called upon the Wraith in all of his power. Across the ground, a great breath of ice appeared and encased them. Dozens of ghoul were frozen instantly, their bodies destroyed by the cold. However, a hundred more appeared in their place. Suddenly, down came the Nazgul. He bashed the ground beside Talion. The ranger ducked and dodged his furious blows, each one able to take off his head. His eyes carefully watched the skilled fighter. As he drew close, he saw the Ringwraith's swing steer wide. As he was forced to commit to the blow, the Gravewalker saw an advantageous opening. He pivoted himself to the side and sent his sword up. It slashed open the Nazgul. The horned Nazgul roared as its body was cut open. Even as he cried, the dark servant grabbed Talion by the throat. The ranger was stunned by its willpower. It sent a headbutt that sent blood pouring out from the ranger's nose.

"Back away!" shouted Talion.

The Ringwraith hissed as a blast of air knocked him backwards. He continued to move in his ghostly form as Ursa sent fire all about him. However, before she could burn him, he had vanished into the tower. She gasped as she turned around to find more ghoul upon her. The Overlord stretched out her hand and sent fire down like a raging river. It consumed them, engulfing a hundred within a moment. Yet there seemed no end. In time, one would surely bite her and inject its venom.

Talion froze the ground around the holes, filling them with ice. However, new mounds were quickly dug up and the ground dwellers burst out like water from a fresh well.

He said, "How are there so many?"

Ursa said, "There must be many brood mothers here. We must bring them out."

Talion said, "Then do so. Flood their nest."

Ursa's eye widened and she said, "Of course! I'm glad I married a wise man."

She stretched out her talons above one of the mounds. As she did, the ghouls appeared and snapped at her. Their jaws were within inches when her flames erupted again. She sent them flooding down the tunnels. As the fires spread and smoke plumed out from the mounds, she heard a shriek that chilled her to her bone. Suddenly, an explosion of snow and dust appeared beside her. Ursa screamed as a giant clawed hand reached out for her. The brood queen roared in pain, her flesh completely burned off as she tried to devour her. From above, Talion's sword came down on her head, and so she was slain in the burning ruin of her nest.

* * *

Atop the watchtower's chamber, the Horned King fought with the Blade of Galadriel. As she weaved around him, he swung wildly. His hammer, in a single swing, broken apart one of the tower's ancient columns. Another swing destroyed its wall. As Eltariel easily avoided him, she saw the roof beginning to shatter.

She said, "You are mad as usual, or is this your cunning?"

The Elf jumped out of the tower. She dug her dagger into the side of the wall, the sharpness of the Elven blade easily cutting into the stone. She then landed on the ground. As she did, he was again upon her. His hammer came crashing down upon her fragilel form.

"Die now," said the Ringwraith, "In time, your master will join you. Die in vain, as did your predecessors."

Eltariel said, "Watch out! Behind you!"

"Silence! AAAGH"

The Elf cackled. A Caragor had pounced into his shoulder and its jaws dug in deep. Its rider now hacked at the dark servant. One of Talion's branded Orcs had survived the ghoul invasion. The Ringwraith howled in pain and grabbed the great beast by the throat. He flipped it over and sent it crashing down on its back. He drew out his weapon and plunged it into its chest. Instantly, the armored wolf was slain. He tore out his bloody hammer as more goblins charged him on all fronts.

His hammer swung to the side, knocking one off its feet while he grabbed another by the head. As he squeezed his hand like a vice, its skull imploded. He tossed the lifeless body aside and gazed at the Elf. She stood in a battle stance, ready to counterattack his next move. The hammer-wielder took not a second to prepare. Immediately, he charged with all his might. As his hammer swung horizontally at her, she grabbed hold of his shoulder and vaulted over. Her thighs came around his head now as she wrapped her legs about him like a spider weaving up its prey. The Ringwraith fell on his back, his hammer having fallen to his side. As he crashed down, she drew out her blade and stabbed him in the head.

"Talion!" she shouted.

The Ringraith screamed once more and appeared beside her as he tried to flee. He swung frantically, his unseen eyes destroyed by her slash. The ranger's arrow pierced him from the front. Even as his hammer spun viciously and without aim, the ranger found an opening. He danced through the manic swings until he was grasping hold of the Nazgul's head. Out came the Bright Lord, rummaging and cutting into the cage that held the fallen king. He fought against the will of the Dark Lord and the defenses of the lesser ring. At last, Celebrimbor's ring proved victorious and the bars of the cage fell to the ground.

Inside the broken cage, they sought control of the mind, its defenses now barren. Here they found a downpour. Talion recognized this rain, this feeling of despair from another. Into the Nazgul's memories, he found his answer. Memories of pain, betrayal, despair, and regret unfolded. In that moment, the cold, empty wraith was no more and what Talion saw was a fallen hero much like himself.

"Helm… Hammerhand… King of Rohan…" he uttered.

Talion then recovered himself and said, "You are banished!"

As the Bright Lord's light enveloped the enemy like a mantle, the Nazgul fled from the living world, barred from Seregost for a time.

Around the place of his departure, the victors now stood in confusion.

Ursa asked, "Talion…What did you see?"

The Bright Lord answered, "He was a great king whose legacy was one of strife as usurpers sought the throne. A prince of Dunland was adamant on winning his daughter's hand, but he would have none of it. In an ambush, the princeling slew Hammerhand, leaving him for dead. As for his daughter, he seized her and took her away to his province. The dying King summoned Anatar… and myself. To save her and to slay his enemy, he was willing to do anything. We gave Hammerhand a ring of power. It corrupted his very being. With his life returned to him, he stormed the prince's estate only to find his daughter in the man's arms. In his fury, he gave himself over to corruption. He slew all in that room… the prince, the guards, his own followers… and even his own daughter. Poisoned by regret and blinded by rage, he forsook the world and himself. It was not long before the King vanished and a Nazgul took his place. His is a story most tragic."

"How awful…" said Ursa, "He did not deserve such a horrid fate. Life was unjust to him, and death, far crueler. One day, we must free them."

Eltariel said, "Only with the destruction of the One Ring can they be put to rest. Nevertheless, I did not know his name. Even in death, his fury has never been quelled. Yes, he should be put to rest."

She then turned to the Witch Queen and the Gravewalker.

The Elf maiden spoke, "Again, I am grateful for your help. Now, I must leave. The Nazgul will return as they always do."

"Eltariel," said Talion, "I heard you speak of predecessors. There were others before you?"

"Yes…" she said, "Lady Galadriel once charged others with this quest, long before I was born. All met the same end. Few can challenge the Nazgul, even amongst the Elves. One day, this too may be my fate."

He answered, "It will not. Our army is nearly ready."

"If your army is completed," said the Elf, "And you seek to storm Mordor, I will find you. War is not my way, but I will gladly bet it all for a chance at victory. Farewell."

As dusk fell on the frozen landscape of Seregost, the Elf sprinted away once more, carried by weightless feet with the speed of a warhorse. All about them, were the fires of war, and heaps of carcasses. The slain Ghoul mothers and their children now reeked as they already began to rot. Ursa now began to trod away from the battlefield. Talion rode close beside her now.

Ursa said to Talion, "We will need her skill. It is as she said: To face Nazgul is something few can hope to do. We should call upon her when next the Nazgul appear."

Talion said, "Ursa… I agree, but… are you alright?"

She said and uttered, "I cannot help but wonder how many others she hung for her sport, to shame them. Perhaps she has been fighting this war alone too long, until her mind fell into depravity. Or perhaps her bloodlust was why she was chosen. No matter, her presence makes me uneasy. Talion, it is not peace for my people she seeks."

The ranger said, "She is but an assassin, with no say in the future of your people."

"Yes… I hope you are right," said Ursa, "Join forces with her if you must, but please be careful."

"I will," answered her husband, "Now let us return to the fortress."

As they left the Barad Silmir behind them, the ranger turned to gaze at Ursa. She was caught in her contemplations and conniving as usual. He could not help but smile.

He then said, "You've done well, Ursa. Once you were afraid to even confront your enemies. Now you face them by my side. I'm proud of you."

His words immediately put a smile on her face, although her heart remained heavy.

She said, "You are so sweet, but I am not so brave. It's only that now I have much to live for. A valiant husband by my side, and a daughter that awaits my return."

Ursa whispered, "I will see you again, Inga."


	23. The Message and the Return to Núrn

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Spider's Message and the Return to Núrn**

"Ah yes, the great spider. Her young scouring the landscape, robbing us of our meat. When they cannot get that, they take our brothers for their meals. Such relentless hunger, all of them. None worse than the Queen of the mountain. Her hordes bring her the finest meats, but sometimes she hunts for herself. A great spider like her should be easy to avoid, yes? Wrong! She snatched my blood-brother from right beside me, stung him, and carried him away silently. When I turned around, his limp corpse was already woven up and being dragged into a pit. And those horrible red eyes were staring at me, begging me to strike so she could add me to her pantry. That creature was pure evil. The day Sauron sends us to wipe her and her kin out will be a glorious day indeed." – _Dush, Captain of Cirith Ungol's borders._

* * *

Orison was a man who prided himself in being aware of his surroundings. In Fort Morn, he knew every room, cooridor, and exit. He was knowledgeable on the shifts of the guards, the names of each soldier, and where his granddaughter was at all times. When he was away, he left her in the care of Hallas. The young man was relentless, never declining to guard Inga with his life. Many people saw the old man as a washed-up ranger who loved only recounting his glory days at the pub, and drank a pint of ale to pass the time. While he certainly loved his ale, his tavern was another source of knowledge for him. Here, he would come across rumors about knowing the goings of Núrn. He heard stories from the sailors who visited Thaurband and the Island of Carnán to the merchants and farmers who came down from the borderlands to trade. As for the polishing of his skills, those were to safeguard his life and that of those precious to him. Many might think him paranoid, but he knew trouble was brewing. He knew that time was running out. When it was, he wished to be ready.

Today, he returned from training with Hallas. As such, he went to visit Inga. He drew open the doors of Ursa's bed chamber. There, Inga was drinking milk siphoned through a cow's horn, held steadily by her nurse Ivorwen. The infant stared intensely at the horn as she drank it.

The ranger said, "So she has been weaned from it? Aye, her mother is not around. A shame that."

Ivorwen answered, "Oh, hello good sir. Yes, the poor thing has been crying for her mother's milk, but it is not to be. How many months has it been since she left? Inga has already begun to crawl. Soon she will take her first steps."

Orison said, "She will have to be strong while her mother is away."

He walked up to his granddaughter and gazed down at her. Her hair had grown to about two inches, now long enough to at least brush. Her eyes seemed clearer and more alert now. As for her skin, it remained a light vanilla, only hinting at her Orc origins. Her teeth were not bright red like her mother, but had inherited her protruding canines. So far, she shown no sign of steady sickness as Ursa often did in her youth. Orison had monitored her carefully for this, as had Ursa when she was around. It seemed Inga would grow up strong. However, first they needed to survive the coming storm. It could be felt throughout all of Mordor.

Sauron was ready to make his move.

* * *

In Cirith Ungol, another army was being amassed. As decreed by the Nazgul, the Overlord was preparing an army of eight thousand, having gathered the tribes about the area to him. Others prepared for a raid upon the pits of their mountains, where the great terror lay. The horror of the darkness whose brood devoured all, bringing her prey to satiate her endless hunger. The Queen of all spiders, the one that threatened their domain.

Talion and Ursa rode swiftly in the cover of night, through the biting cold of the desert air. The ranger knew the path they took, for he had used it before. They bypassed countless patrols. However, there was always the danger of a Caragor ambush or falling into a pit swarming with Ungols. As such, the ranger used the eyes of the Wraith all through the journey and kept his ears attuned to the sounds of the night.

At last, they reached their destination, the way through the mountains of Mordor. Here the Queen of the Ungol lay. Sauron had deemed her useful for guarding the path, but many goblins plotted to be rid of her. The ranger had caught wind of the plan. Now they had to confront the menace.

"Ursa," he said, "You may not approve of the Ungol Queen."

"A trait we share," said the Bright Lord, "She is a treacherous monster, a spawn of an ancient evil. Never to be trusted."

Talion replied, "I am well aware of your opinion, Celebrimbor. Now, Ursa… I ask only that you be courteous. She is an ally, spider or not."

Ursa said, "I promise to be diplomatic. When have I ever been unreasonable?"

"Ursa…"

"Alright," she said, "I will watch my tongue."

"Thank you," said Talion, "The same goes for you, Celebrimbor. Let's not upset her."

"It's not upsetting her that worries me," said the Wraith, "How long before her instincts take her, before she gives into her hunger? Before she tries to take the ring?"

* * *

As Ursa entered the cave, she understood why Talion had been so adamant about her being polite. Strung up on the top of the cave and on the openings of smaller tunnels were the corpses of wolves, birds, and rats. However, many of the dead she came across were not simple animals. They were the bodies of goblins. Along the way, she saw dozens upon dozens of them laying in ruin.

"This way," said the spider Madargon.

She led them to the great chamber of Shelob, where a funnel of webs had been woven together. Today, she stood at the edge of it. Her black jaws were tearing at the corpse of an Orc, drinking of its remains like a broth. Her potent venom had broken it down within minutes. Ursa gazed up at the hulking queen, her legs spanning the entirety of the chamber.

"Mother…" said Madargon as she bowed, "I bring you… the Bright Lord Celebrimbor… Talion the ranger… and Overlord Ursa."

Ursa bowed now to the queen. Shelob dropped the remains of her prey and turned to face them. Her grand form vanished in a blast of smoke as she transformed into her human form. The Witch Queen gazed at the sorceress of the deep. The ranger noted mentally that they seemed not so different, both having midnight black hair and skin as pale as a corpse, likely a sign of their unnatural births.

 _How awful. No, Orc are plentiful here, necessary to feed her and her young. This is not the same as with Eltariel. It is not! Even so…_

Ursa did not feel so repulsed as she had been in Seregost, but she felt on edge. Instead of play items, her brethren were seen as food.

 _I should not have come._

Shelob said, "So… this is the other force behind the war. An unlikely hero. Welcome to Cirith Ungol, Overlord Ursa."

Ursa said, "It is an honor to treat with you."

Shelob said, "You are nervous… It is understandable. Do not worry so. You and your forces are not to be devoured. Only those that draw to close to my lair… I cannot deny that to my young. Just as you take the life of cattle and swine, so must we kill and feed on the living."

Overlord Ursa said, "I will not object to your ways. I come before you to show my appreciation for our alliance."

Ursa then turned her head over to where Madargon stood. She smiled at the spider.

The Witch said, "Your spiders have provided precious news to my Uruk. Your daughter and her brood have been invaluable."

Shelob said in a calm tone, "Is that so? Well done."

Madargon said, "A-Ah… Thank you… very much… my Queen."

Talion said, "To business then. The Overlord of this land is preparing an expedition. His raiders are coming to invade your caves."

Shelob said, "I am aware of that. Are you worried about me, ranger?"

She smiled lightly at him, almost playfully, something that made Ursa glare slightly.

The ranger said, "I am aware that you are aware. The reason for my visit is to offer my services. I will eliminate your enemies; in turn, I would like you to send your spiders to the Overlord's fortress."

Shelob said, "I see… either way many of my children are to die. I am afraid I cannot aid in your taking of Cirith Ungol. If Sauron were to discover it, he would send his black captains upon my lair. We would all die."

Ursa said, "It is likely he will learn of it, yes. Nonetheless, you have already involved yourself in this war, haven't you? You risked much by sending your daughter."

"A brood may do as they like," said the spider queen, "Yes, that is the truth of it. I will not send my spiders but… if she and any of my young wish to take the keep, so be it."

The Bright Lord said, "Without your order? I gaze at a most peculiar queen."

"Our customs are not yours Elf lord," said Shelob coldly, "And we do not obsess over hierarchy as you land dwellers do. Instinct and the will to survive bind us to the same web. We do not take pleasure in it, reveling in in power alone. A king or queen is nothing without followers. Tell me Elf lord, how many of your Orc chose to follow you? How many love you, would lay their life down for you? I think none."

His voice became harsh as he uttered, "Spoken by a decrepit spider who fears the light of day. You who lack the bravery to save your own children."

"That's enough" said Talion as he turned his attention to Madargon.

He asked forcefully, "Madargon, what is your answer?"

"Lord Talion… I will… send my brood… I know my… brothers and sisters…. Will join us."

"Very good," said Talion, "Now we should be going."

Shelob said, "A word of warning… my children bring news from Barad-dûr. A standing army awaits his command. He has called back a Nazgul to lead them. The goblin cities empty out their numbers. Just today, I learned that they prepare to march for Núrn."

Ursa said, "Then we must take Cirith Ungol quickly. These Orcs are about to join them."

She turned to Talion and said, "Once it is conquered, we must return swiftly to Fort Morn and protect Inga."

The ranger said, "It will take them many months to march to it. If we hurry, we can take Cirith Ungol and beat them there. Thank you for the warning, Shelob."

The spider said, "In truth, I half wonder if they will march at all. They have delayed the invasion for some time."

Ursa replied, "They must have planned to take the Haedir first. Then there is the matter of the kingdoms. Talion and I won many keeps, robbing Lord Sauron of many legions."

"Indeed," said the ranger, "There is hope for victory."

Shelob said, "Is there? With all your power, you could not keep Minas Ithil from falling. Forty thousand Orc besiege to your land, just as before. You are utterly outnumbered. What hope have you against such numbers?"

The ranger said, "There is always hope. Even in the darkness of Mordor, I have found things worth protecting. For their sake, I will not fail. I promise I will not let Núrn fall. Once you entrusted me with much, Shelob. Won't you once more?"

The spider smiled.

She said, "You are a strange one, Gravewalker. You wield a ring of power and yet, your mind is fixed on another. It seems there is another ring far more precious to you."

Ursa gulped as she heard the spider say it. She tried to hold back the swell of emotions within her. Perhaps Shelob noticed since she turned her gaze to her.

She said, "And you Ursa… branded with the enemy… what is it you cherish more than power? You both stand amidst darkness and light for the sake of the free… somehow proving resistant to corruption. Is this the hope you speak of?"

Ursa said, "Darkness… suffering… we promised long ago not to let them hinder us. There is hope because there is love here. Love for those within our heart, love for all peoples, love for this land."

The spider asked, "Oh? Even for the dark, cursed lands of Mordor?"

The Overlord did not hesitate to answer. Her gaze was fixed and steady.

"Yes."

The spider said, "Such fools. Such strange heroes standing before me. I do not think ideals alone can win this war, but you both know that don't you? I will chastise you no more."

As Ursa stared at the spider, she thought she looked very sad, as if she envied their foolishness. She wondered if Shelob were truly a being bound to the darkness, or one cast out from the light. Was she exiled for her greed or chained by her own despair?

Shelob then said, "Now leave… this realm is no place for the living."

Ursa said, "So we shall. Madargon, will you walk with us?"

The Queen of Ungol asked, "' Madargon?' You have a name now?"

"A-ah… a name given… to me by… Overlord Ursa."

"I see…" said Shelob.

She whispered to her offspring, "It was good you remained with them, my child."

As they left, Ursa wondered more at the spider. She wondered at the silly things she had said, of ideals of love and hope. They now seemed embarrassing. Was it not strategy, assassination, and evil that had granted them an army? Could they really be called heroes? As she pondered this, she heard a blood-curdling sound.

A goblin was screaming as it was pulled into a pit to be wrapped in web and devoured. He seemed limp with his voice sounding like a drunken slur. Even so, Ursa understood what it was he was begging for.

"Help! Please!"

The spider swung its back stinger again into him, and the Orc became still. Ursa moved forward an inch, but then froze. She squeezed her claws together as she knotted her hand into a fist. She squeezed them until they drew blood. The Overlord then sighed and walked forward again. Talion and the Wraith both watched her thoughtfully.

Ursa did not feel as ill about the Shelob as she did Eltariel. In many ways, she felt sympathy for her. However, she could not help but doubt. It was becoming more and more apparent that her allies did not value the lives of Orcs. Ursa was surrounded by an army of Orc slaves deprived of will and all else were those that sought their deaths. Her hope seemed to become clouded by another emotion. In that moment, Ursa felt very alone.

* * *

The seasons continued to turn as the pair conquered Middle Earth. Wherever they went, bloodshed soon followed. However, they proved victorious again and again. They had taken Udûn and Núrn. Soon, Gorgoroth, the realm of fire. The frozen wastelands of Seregost had fallen in time. Now, Cirith Ungol, accursed and barren, was added to their dominion. Shelob's invaders had been staved off, leaving her and the Overlord to tend to the territory in his stead. In that moment, all of Mordor's regions save for the span of Barad-dûr and Minas Morgul now belonged to Talion. With the Overlords under his command, Talion fortified the defenses for he would not be there to see to them. It was time to return to Núrn. The order had been given. The black army marched for the sea.

* * *

"How many months has it been?" asked Talion as he pulled on the reigns.

Ursa answered him, "Five. And another month before we can see her."

"Ursa…. The mission is over now. It's all right to let it out."

As he said it, she felt it all return to her. Like floodwaters breaching a damn.

Ursa said, "I should have been there for her."

The half-Orc whimpered, "I should have been there to silence her cries, to comfort her in the night, to sing her to sleep… to prepare her meals… to wash her…. To make her laugh… to hold Inga close."

"I will not say I chose wrong," said Ursa, "Only that I cannot forgive myself."

Talion said, "You are not the only one. Even if it was for her sake, I know I should have been there with you both."

He heard the Bright Lord say, "That is the path you both chose. To fall in love and to bring new life into a world at war… to save your daughter, she must lose her father… her mother."

Ursa said, "You may be right. Even so, I cannot so easily accept it. If I stop believing in a world where we are united, where peace reigns, then I will surely fail."

"Humph," said Celebrimbor, "It may be possible to cheat this fate. Only a ring of power can alter the course of the world. Just as one ring sentenced it to death, its sister ring can right that wrong."

"So that is your hope," said Talion.

As he looked up at the dark scape, Talion's eyes were grave and sorrowful. Even with Ursa by his side, a hole had been growing within him. He feared the wings would fail and he would not reach a good end. Darkness would pull him back forever. Sauron would exploit his weakness and kill it. When he considered the thought of losing his daughter, fear eclipsed all his thought. He remembered Shelob's question. How much would he sacrifice? Perhaps Celebrimbor was right and his family was a weakness. If he lost them, then he could not continue. If they were threatened or captured, what would he do?

In that moment, he felt Ursa's hands wrap around his neck. She pulled herself up from her seat in the harness and placed her chin on his shoulder.

Ursa asked, "My love, you've been holding it in too. You are not alone. I am here. Celebrimbor is here. Do not suffer in silence now."

He blinked in shock at her words as she tore at his hardening, bleeding heart. He felt his vision blur as his heartbeat returned to normal.

"I…" said Talion, "I cannot bear to lose my family again."

Ursa said, "I am glad you do not walk this path alone, my love. Let us bear the world together. Come. Let us ride. Inga is waiting."

The ranger tightened his lips as he tried to overcome the torrent of emotions within him. His watering eyes gazed up once more. He saw a single star through the black smoke of Mordor. As he gazed upon it, he knew he could return home. That the heavens would allow it. As he pulled on the reigns once more, the drake let out a roar.

"Then let us ride," said the ranger.

* * *

The return to Mordor felt far faster than when they had left. A month felt like a week and a week felt like a day. Upon seeing the black clouds clear, Ursa's eye stirred to life. She pressed and climbed atop Talion's back to gaze at the horizon. In place of the dark storm clouds was a white fog that blanketed the land of Núrn. Below, the black stone halted, all so suddenly. It turned to a light dust with tatters of grasslands. Soon it warped into hills and small mountains. As they flew over them, as they peered through the fog of morning, they smelled the cool sea air. Up ahead, the sea of Núrnen glistened, its waves rippling gently from the tug of the moon.

"Was it always so beautiful?" asked Ursa as she laughed warmly.

The ranger said, "A jewel finer than any in the earth. We must save it from its doom."

Celebrimbor said, "We shall. We will repel them back into the darkness from which they came."

* * *

Ursa's guard scrambled about her as she and her husband swiftly strode towards their chambers.

"My lady," said one of her strategists, "I bring word from the Island of Carn-"

Ursa put her fingers to his lips and said, "Speak of it later. No business until I have seen Inga."

She pushed through the doors and ran into the room. Her nurse jumped back on her chair, nearly falling over as the Overlord stormed the room. She swooped in, her robes fluttering behind her like a furious wave, as her talons scooped up Inga. Ursa gazed at her closely and then beamed. She ran her fingers through the child's silky hair.

"She's so beautiful. Even more beautiful than last I saw her."

She continued, "Look, Talion she has hair. As black as mine."

Talion said, "A fair-skinned beauty."

Ursa said, "Imagine the suitors. So many men will be fighting for her hand."

Talion said, "That doesn't sound good at all. What father wants to hear that?"

Ursa said, "There is no harm in it, as long as she picks the perfect one in the end."

"Ugh…"

Ursa kissed Inga on the forehead. The child went silent as she did. Inga didn't move now. She seemed to look at Ursa in curiosity and confusion.

Ursa's demeanor immediately changed.

She asked, "Inga… Do you remember me?"

They stared at each other for what felt like ages. At last, Inga let out a coo. She then giggled and reached out with her hands. Her tiny fingers pressed against Ursa's mouth and nose. The baby began to cackle and mutter unintelligible words.

"Uwuuguwbllllrbbbmmmaaa.. Mmmmaaaa…"

Ursa gasped now. She pulled Inga closely now, laying her against her chest as she cradled her there. The relief on her face was evident. Ursa then turned to Talion to see his expression. He was looking at the child inventively as well.

"Talion… why don't you hold her?"

"I… I don't want to ruin your moment. I… Alright."

He carefully grabbed the child, but it was difficult to contain his excitement. He held her in front of him and gazed at her with scrutiny.

"You probably don't know me as well Inga but you will. Your father will pester you every day that he can spare. We'll have the greatest of fun and get into the worst sort of trouble."

He laughed and spun her around him. The baby laughed with him, giggling lightly. He then lay down on the bed and held her above him, gazing happily into her light brown eyes. From the side, Ursa cherished the image of the father embracing his daughter so closely. For her, no image seemed more pure nor more perfect.

 _That's right. You've been suffering just as much as I have. You love her with all your being, don't you Talion? You need not hide it._

Ursa became even happier as she saw Talion interacting with Inga. She felt herself swooning again at the sight of it. However, she kept her distance, not wanting to ruin their bonding time. Tomorrow, war plans would have to be devised and business would resume as usual. But for now, they needed to fully embrace this reunion, to mend their broken hearts, and to remind themselves of what they could be.


	24. The War for Núrn and the Fate

**Chapter Twenty-Four: The War for Núrn and the Fate of the Free**

In the cover of darkness, a grand army marched proudly to the borders of Núrn. Forty thousand goblins were ready to crush the resistance. An army sent from Minas Morgul and Barad-dûr. In their path, they decimated all. Every Orc camp they passed by was stripped of its crops, water, and rations. The goblins would need to take the sea and rivers for such numbers to survive. Above them, the storm clouds brewed as the Dark Lord sent them shade, a canopy from the burning sun. At the head of the army was a single Nazgul. One with a silver crown, surrounded by his phantom puppets. Given the order by the supreme one, he would raze the free man's paradise to the ground and from the carnage, awake an undying army.

* * *

A new day rose on the land of Núrn. In the palace of Morn, the wedded couple were spending one last day with Inga. She was to be taken to the Island of Carnán until the siege ended. Then, she would return as the island's sanctuary was not yet complete. Yet, for now, Carnán's domain was the safest place in Middle Earth for the child to be hidden away.

"Come here, Inga," said Talion. He playfully stretched out his arms. The small child giggled and laughed as she quickly crawled towards him with all manner of speed. She eagerly climbed up to him until he grabbed hold of her and took her up into his arms.

The ranger said, "She recognizes us both. I am sure of it."

He turned back to her and asked, "Isn't that right, little one?"

Inga answered by spitting up some of her breakfast. Talion shut his eyes and tightened his lips as he grimaced. Ursa giggled and danced over to them. She pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned it off of Talion's mouth. She then began to clean up Inga's own face.

Talion said, "That I could do without. It reminds me of Dirhael in his youth. He could never keep down his food. I half-wondered if he did it on purpose."

"A baby's version of a joke?" asked Ursa.

"I hope not."

"I…"

Ursa hesitated to finish her words.

"I wish we could keep her close. It seems we only were just reunited, now we must part ways."

Talion answered, "You are a good mother, Ursa. Her safety is more important than our feelings for her."

"Her life," said his wife, "Is worth more than anything. So then… I will be her shield, just as I am yours."

Talion now placed his other hand upon her cheek and kissed her softly. Ursa's breathing became shaky at the feeling of his flesh against hers, at the pain from their parting. A final kiss before the battle erupted, before all broke loose. As their lips parted, Ursa thought upon what it would be to be a shield, and to be a weapon.

 _I would like to take as many Orc alive as possible. However, if they try to reach the island, I will burn every last one of them."_

As she promised this silently, a shadow moved over her.

* * *

Ursa watched sorrowfully as the last ship carried away her daughter. She soaked in the image of the departing vessel and the memories she had gathered in the last few days. However, her gaze swiftly returned to mainland of Núrn, whose fate was about to be decided. She swiftly walked ahead back to the porch of her estate. That was when she saw a familiar face walking past her. Her eye widened as memories of a painful night returned all at once. Of a forbidden kiss that should never have been, of a friendship split in two.

"Hallas?"

The young man stopped in his tracks. He turned wearily to face her. His eyes swiftly sunk to the ground as he bowed and his red locks hid his gaze.

"My Queen"

"I thought you had already left," she said.

Hallas said, "Orison asked I take a later ship, to escort her nurse whom is still in bed with fever."

"I see," said Ursa.

"Will that be all my lady?"

"'Will that be all?'" repeated Ursa sadly, "Hallas, I am in your debt. Thank you for watching over Inga all this time. I know she will be safe with you."

The young man spoke in a stifled tone, "You are too kind as always my Queen. I will take my leave."

"Wait!"

She grabbed him by the wrist.

Ursa said, "I told you I forgive you. I wonder if you will forgive me?"

"My Queen," he said as his eyes began to tremble, "There is nothing to forgive."

"Then I hope that I can see you smile again," said the Overlord, "Please… no more ill will… no more suffering when you are around me. I miss how you would approach me and ask me to watch you train."

Hallas answered, "Forgive me, but my heart is still mending. Can you truly forget that I kissed you and that you decreed that I should leave your service? That time we spent together is over. I have changed and so have you."

"I see…" she said, "No… I do not accept it. One day, Hallas… I will see you smile again."

She rubbed her hand atop his red hair again and beamed at t him. She then smiled at him as a single tear streaked down her cheek. He did not know if it was from some happy memory or if it was forged from sorrow. However, as Ursa left his sight, Hallas clutched at his heart.

"Lady Ursa… forgive me…" he whispered, "It seems I am not yet a man."

* * *

By morning, the Nazgul's army had reached them. Out of Fort Morn, poured an army of three thousand to face them. Ursa, wearing her draconian army, led her Orcs into the beginnings of battle. By her side was Talion, dressed in his armor of black and red, with a fur-tipped cape. Up ahead, they could see the advanced force preparing to strike. Ten thousand Uruk had been sent to break through the line and proceed to devastate the realm.

"Darkness falls upon the land," said the Overlord to her mate, "It will rend us to pieces. Even so, they will not escape the fire unscathed."

Talion tore out his sword and sent out a powerful current of air.

He roared out, "Death! Death to the invaders!"

She yelled out to her rank, "Archers! Take aim! Ready! Fire!"

At her words, the order was carried out to each row of archers and in turn, a thousand arrows were sent forward. The half-naked grunts that made up the enemy's front row was quickly slaughtered. However, their cavalry now charged forward. Hundreds of Caragor and Wargs armed with bows and javelins intended to break the line.

"Arrows!" shouted Bruz, "Shoot them down you swine!"

The second volley now picked apart the cavalry that approached.

"Send out those javelins, boys!" shouted the Olog Overlord again. As Ursa had earlier commanded, hundreds of short pikes were prepared. As the archers ran back, the javelin throwers began to hurdle the spears into the hides of the Warg. Meanwhile, another cavalry force had collided with the left flank of the defenders. They came at the side and shaved off dozens of defenders. Their wolves swiftly rent their prey to pieces and then fled again for a second charge.

"Shields!" shouted the friendly captains as the enemy returned fire, sending a rain of arrows upon them. The air became a nightmare to the living as they heard the whiz of arrows. Most bounced harmlessly off their wooden shields, but some slipped through. Throughout the ranks, rang the screams of Orcs as the arrowheads pierced their limbs.

* * *

As the battle intensified, Talion and Ursa retreated with their Warchiefs to the center of their force. Here they were able to better coordinate their movements. Furthermore, it gave Talion time to prepare for his next move. He now looked to the skies for his weapon of advantage, what he had lacked in the battle of Minas Ithil. Out from the skies, Atanáro flew silently. The enemy only saw him for a moment the drake shot down like an arrow. His wings spread at the last second as Atanáro stretched out his legs and landed. The mighty drake now sent out wisps of smoke as he awaited his master.

The ranger swiftly mounted the crimson beast. As he tied a belt about him that held him to the saddle, Talion looked down at his Queen. He reached out now and took hold of her talons. With a single heave, he was able to pull Ursa to his side. Talion tugged on the reigns. Atanáro let out a bellow as he unfolded his grand wings. At his command, Atanáro kicked off the ground and pulled himself up into the air. His crimson wings now cast a shadow over the enemy below. The goblins panicked and screamed as they saw the image of death circling them like a vulture above a corpse. The drake suddenly angled himself downward. He folded up his leathery wings and tucked in his legs. As he did, Atanáro plummeted to the earth as fast as lightning. Several arrows caught into the thick scales of his belly, but he did not notice. Instead, he grabbed hold of a batch of Orcs and then drew up into the air once more. The ranks were scattering. From below, the Bright Lord's cavalry began to charge. Goblins on horses and Caragor were breaking through the front lines. Leading them were his armored elites, clearing a path for the horseback archers. The drake now pulled up as the enemy's crossbows sent bolts at his hide.

Talion now reached out with his hand and took hold of the Atanáro's mind. With his command, Atanáro opened up his mouth and let out a cloud of smoke. He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs completely. As he exhaled, out came a rainstorm of fire. It swelled and consumed the unarmored ranks below. It left a long trail of fire and ash in its wake. The enemy continued to fire upon him, but the drake rose back high into the clouds. In that moment, the friendly calvary plowed through the enemy force. The drake would return to scatter them again, when they least expected it.

The second time the drake came down, Ursa's gaze fell upon the enemy's heavy ranks in the back, where their trolls were awaiting a chance to engage in war. She reached out with her hand and sent her own fire down. Her red flames latched onto the flesh beneath the armor of the heavy infantry. In a torrent that stretched half a mile, she continued to unleash all of her magic. The army began to panic, wondering if a second drake were upon them. Indeed, over a thousand were now dead from the flames. However, the drake's fire was soon spent and Ursa began to pant as her power took its toll on her weak body.

The ranger said, "I will send you back to the ranks. You are needed there."

Ursa said, "As are you. Both of you."

The Bright Lord answered her, "Not until they have witnessed the power of the ring."

* * *

As the drake vanished back into the skyline, Talion fired a single luminous arrow into the center of the invaders. He appeared over them, time almost slowing down as he did. The Bright Lord took form and drew out his bow. As he fired, his arrows seemed to multiply, as if fired by a volley of archers. A dozen now picked at the heads of the Uruk. In the last arrow fired, the ranger vanished and reappeared over the head of the enemy captain. His sword was already drawn. Before the goblin could raise his axe, Talion's longsword split open his head. As he landed, he sidestepped a vicious swing from a goblin and immediately slid his own sword into its ribcage. He tore out his weapon and began to duel the enemy. Just as they had him surrounded, his ring sprung to life. The enemy were knocked off their feet by an invisible blast, as vicious as the quaking of Mount Doom itself. Already trolls and larger Uruk swarmed about him. He drew out the glave and lopped off the head of one behind him. He weaved it back and forth as the Bright Lord guided his movements. Their swords drew close. As they did, the spearhead cut open at their shins and knees. It slashed open throats. Over a dozen were now dead at his feet. However, the trolls would have none of it. The great brute shrugged off the slashes of the spear that could not easily cut into its hide. The Olog laughed and taunted as it swung its club at him. With great agility, the ranger dodged it, but it had been a narrow escape. From behind, he heard shields-men approaching, preparing to send spears into his back. He would not be able to dodge the troll again. The ranger now utilized his final trick. The ring glowed a feint blue, invisible to the untrained eyes. However, it signaled the freezing of the world, the coming of a long winter. As the ranger planted the flag of the Bright Lord into the earth, he sent out winter's chill. A sheet of ice froze all around him. It continued out further, spanning a hundred feet. A second layer of ice now poured forth, and then yet another. He then ripped out the glave once more and poured all his magic into his next blow. The glave again pierced the ground. This time, he sent out crystals of ice, each of great size. They grew out like great blades of grass, erupting after the first rain. The Orcs screamed out in pain as the frozen blades impaled them. Their black blood gushed out into pools as they were hung from the top of the long shards. Hundreds were now frozen in their own graves. However, the ranger was spent. He called upon the drake again and vanished from the battlefield.

An hour had passed since the battle first began. With Ursa and Talion spent, the remaining enemy charged them head on. The ranks battered against one another as hundreds fell. The pure green of Núrn became stained with the black blood of the Orc and their cries of pain assaulted the ears. In the head, Bruz and his band viciously held back all that approached. However, even he was forced to retreat in time. The Warchiefs and the captains fled as the enemy broke through and laid waste to their forces. As they fled, Talion once again reentered the battlefield. He fought gallantly, felling another hundred with sword and ring. The battle continued well into the night, until at last one sided was left utterly broken. Seven thousand enemy Orc were slain in the end, but another three thousand remained. As for Ursa's forces, only a few hundred survived the onslaught. They were all of them forced to flee. As they did, Talion took his wife up on his dragon once more. She sent down a wall of fire across the battlefield that blocked the invaders. It would burn throughout the night, giving her Orc safe passage home. For Ursa, her heart was heavy. Even with all the power, strategy, and courage they could muster... they had lost. The consequences for their failure would be the ravaging of Núrn.

* * *

The bloody hoof of a black steed crashed upon the foot of the small village. The Nazgul sat atop it, staring at the beauty of the fertile lands. Small cottages were built here with acres of crops and vineyards left abandoned behind upon well-tilled earth. Flowers and trees entrenched the area, creating an enclave for the poor farmers that made it their home.

The Ringwraith said, "Burn it all. Let them suffer for their treachery. Let them despair as the sword of Mordor slides across their throat. And then in the darkness, they shall beg for death."

As the Nazgul decreed, his Orcs began to march into the village and set it on fire. They tore apart the cottage, using the wood for their bonfires. Plumes of smoke arose all over the pastures of Núrn as they stripped the farms dry and felled their trees to burn for their war machines. Their hammers and battering rams shattered the stone houses into pieces. Any survivors found trying to defend their land were promptly slaughtered, stripped of their garments, and hung atop the banners of Mordor. The fires soon spread across the empty fields and took to the grasslands and trees. It reached for miles, sending up black smoke that became entwined with the storm above. Although the people had been evacuated to Fort Morn, there would be nothing left to return to. The beauty of Núrn was fading away and the scorched earth would remain scarred and cursed for years.

* * *

As night drew close, Fort Morn sealed its iron gates. They could do little but await the coming siege. Four thousand Orc had been stationed in Núrn. The Queen Marwen and her daughter Lithariel brought her people into the gates, knowing her estate lacked the power to defend them. In regards to Thaurband, a thousand Uruk held it. The enemy would likely avoid it, lest they stretch themselves thin on two different stages. As for the Island of Carnán, only five hundred Uruk guarded its shores. Ursa hoped the guardian of the island would be enough to keep it safe. For now, all that mattered was outlasting the enemy in this battle of attrition. With the Witch King absent, the enemy could not easily breach the fortress. However, they need not to. The thirty thousand remaining Orc needed only wait for the defenders to starve to death. If the Bright Lord and his queen were to be successful, desperate and unorthodox strategy was needed. For that reason, Ursa now connived once more.

* * *

Two weeks now passed. They had lost only a hundred Orcs on the wall, with the enemy losing another thousand. However, their arrows would soon be spent, and the walls would no doubt be breached. With no other plan left, Ursa decided it was time to leave.

"Where are you flying to?" asked the ranger.

"To speak with the spirit of Carnán. I must convince her to aid us."

Talion said, "She has already sent us a herd of her minions and great graug."

Ursa replied, "Do you truly think her power is so little? When I was on the island, I felt her power all about us. She is holding back, saving her power for when they slaughter us and come for her."

The ranger said, "Ursa… Carnán does not think well of Orc. Although she spared you in your last meeting, it is still dangerous. I will go with you."

"You must not, my lord," said Ursa, "Your army needs you. They need the Bright Lord and the ring of light."

Ursa began to rock as her weak legs began to tremble. From ahead of her, she saw the culprit of the ruckus. It was the Overlord Bruz. He looked rather glum.

"So you're leaving then? For Carnán, eh?"

She answered, "I am sorry to leave you here, guarding my fortress when yours is left abandoned."

"That? No, no," he said, "This is where the action is. You know me well m'lady. Couldn't be much happier."

She smiled and said, "Stay brave. Stay true. All of you. Let us hope I return with the wrath of Carnán ready to be unleashed."

"Be careful," said Talion.

He moved forward now and kissed her. Ursa pulled him in closer as she deepened the kiss, letting out moans and pants as they continued. The ranger, at last pulled off of her, wondering if she would have ever ended it. From behind, Bruz was grimacing at the gesture.

"That isn't right that is," said Bruz, "Bodily affections and what not."

Ursa asked, "Do you want a hug too, Bruz?"

"I think I'll pass. Now get going you."

Talion said to her, "Atanáro will obey your every order. Be careful."

Celebrimbor appeared and said his piece.

"Remember your training. Present yourself not as an Orc, but a Queen of Middle Earth."

"I will," she said to both men.

* * *

As the crimson drake departed for the far off isle, the black army now appeared on their doorstep. They sent hammer and battering ram crashing into the adamant gates. Their weapons did nothing, unable to so much as dent the strongest of all ores. However, the adamant did not make up the eternity of the wall, only its forward plating. In time, they would find gaps and ways to pry it off. For now, the ranger took to the wall.

He marched about the top of it. Here the air was frozen and biting. His Orc looked afraid. They were tired and without hope, seeing their Queen fly off with the drake. None had slept in many nights, and always the drums played in the distance. Talion could not help but feel a moment of compassion for them. Perhaps Ursa's empathy was rubbing off on him. Either way, he needed to boost their morale. He could not have them losing heart so early in the siege.

The ranger said, "Look upon them, how they crash futilely upon our iron walls. They will never breach it."

Bruz tapped his hand on what of his Warchiefs and said, "Ha! Like maggots squirming about. We should send them our regards!"

Talion said, "Send down arrow, rock, and oil. Fire at will!"

He once again marveled at the battlements atop the wall. Ursa, true to her word, had erected iron sections that jetted out, with small holes to fire from. His Orcs were perfectly safe inside as they sent their ammunition down towards the enemy. For now, the siege was in their favor. However, as he gazed into the distance, he saw something that worried him greatly. There was a great plume of smoke from a far-off forest. The Orcs were turning it into a sort of mill, undoubtedly for their war machines. He worried they were planning something more than simple siege engines. Even more, the Nazgul was nowhere to be seen. It was possible he was claiming the Haedir as they spoke or raising an army of dead. However, Talion dared not venture out. Even with all his power, he might not get far with thousands of Uruk swarming all about the walls. He would have to wait for the return of his drake.

Down below, a legion of armored Orc were protecting those with battering rams. They kept their box shields upwards, blocking any arrows and stones pelted at them. From Talion's view, he saw one of his trebuchets explode into pieces. A far-off catapult had landed the shot. His Uruk were crushed beneath the wooden beams.

With a curse, the ranger ordered, "Hold your positions! They will soon tire out!"

"A fine commander you make," he heard a female voice say from behind.

He saw Queen Marwen standing before him, dressed in light armor and a long, coat that reached her knees. Tied around her chest was a belt that held a bow and quiver.

"Queen Marwen," he said, "You should not be here. It is dangerous."

She said, "Long ago, I aided my father in conquering the sea. I will not stand idly by as that is taken away. I sought always to be a queen of peace, but in times of war, I think a Corsair is needed."

She pulled out her bow and placed an arrow on the string of it. She swiftly ran to the small stone spire atop the wall. She closed one eye and aimed down the sights. She released the thread and sent an arrow whizzing downwards. It hit one of the forward officers below in the eye. His troops cursed out profanities in black speech as they saw the woman gazing down at them.

She said, "Ah… I must confess that was a half-lie. In truth, it is vengeance I seek."

"My Queen…"

She continued, "By now, my people's lands have been turned to ash and my palace lies in ruin. They must pay for destroying Núrn."

Her usual playful demeanor had vanished. Instead, he saw something cruel, a reflection of himself. It was the bloodthirsty Corsair princess who had defeated her rivals and slain all Orc that crossed her borders. The Corsair that, for the sake of her people, left nothing but carnage in her wake. Talion wasn't afraid at the sight. He saw himself, just as he had been when he awoke from the blood pact. A part of him that remained even now. That which lurked in the hearts of all men.

"They will pay," he said, "All of them."

* * *

The Queen of Núrn marched through the thick walls of trees and vines. The air was thick with the scent of life, of all manner of green and vegetation. Each step of hers pressed onto a blanket of grass and moss. This place was alive as if a bubbling spring were only inches away. Indeed, the spirit here was the eternal spring of the forest, sending out waves of life as her invisible roots entwined with all living things, save the beings of Mordor. For that reason, Ursa knew to be on her guard, just as was needed with Eltariel and Shelob. Just as she was with the tribesmen. She was not welcome in this world, but she would once again fight for her place in it. Even more, she would risk everything to secure the future of her family, her people, and all of Middle Earth. It could not end here. The Dark Lord could not win.

Ursa's gaze became firm even as she bowed before the great tree. She heard the creaking of wood, the rustling of leaves, and the slithering of vines as the deity of Núrn emerged. She dared not gaze up at her glory. Instead she remained prostrate through the negotiations.

"Why have you come here? Have you not your own garden to tend, half-Orc?"

Ursa said, "We are dying. Forgive me… I asked you to guard this island and my people here… but it seems that will all be futile. Tens of thousands of Orc surround my home. They will breach it in time and my people will die."

"Perish then…" said Carnán, "The death of your Orcs means nothing. Sauron will not destroy me. You know this."

Ursa asked, "Why did you send aid? What hope did you see in Talion, in Celebrimbor?"

"Hmmm," said Carnán, "I saw light, twisted, but it was light. I saw a future for Núrn."

Ursa said, "Then their lives mean something to you. The lives of all in Middle Earth mean something to you."

"Indeed," said the forest, "But is a little thing. You think only of yourselves, never of the beast you enslave nor the trees you fell. The people of the tribes and that of Gondor nearly destroyed Núrn before. Rather than be its gardeners, you have chosen to be locusts, ravaging all for the sake of power."

Ursa said, "I tended to Núrn to all of my ability, planting seed where we cut down tree, leaving the great forests untouched."

"Then it is your failure. I have given you enough. I have promised you enough."

Ursa said, "Then you have abandoned your own lands, and left them to ruin. They are all gone, oh great one."

Carnán asked, "What do you mean?"

"You do not know?"

Ursa's heart began to pound. She had found the weakness she was looking for. Something she could use against her.

She replied, "Sauron's army has already burned it. Right now, the forest is being cut down, hundreds of trees fall by the day. The fields have been burned and the harvest consumed. Your birds, your deer, your creatures will soon starve. And this land will be cursed. The poison of the Haedir will spread and the scorched earth will not return to its former glory. Perhaps never again. Núrn's beauty was stolen from her in a single night. Your land has been raped!"

"No!" roared Carnán, "It cannot be! He would not destroy his own lands. He tended to them."

"For the sake of victory," said Ursa, "He has forsaken them."

"Curse him! Curse the Dark Lord! He will pay!"

Her yellow eyes were enshrouded with rage as the forest fell into darkness, as the trees stirred. Ursa's earlier fear vanished as she now gazed without fail up at the fury before her. About her, vines were reeling about, and the ground began to shake. Ursa's cold eyes remained steady as she witnessed the fruition of her plan, at the chance to save Núrn. However, she could not feel hope or joy in that moment. She knew that she had done something wrong in a way, and so she felt as much disgust in herself as she did pride in her victory. Disgust not just for manipulation but for the slight grin that crossed her lips for but a moment. She was relieved her black hair acted as a veil in that moment, as she remained prostrate even in victory.

At last, she whispered, "You will be safe now, Talion."

* * *

The ranger returned from his quest. He was panting and bleeding. He had retaken a single Haedir, but fled when the Nazgul sent an army of undead upon him. Several others still needed to be retaken. Even so, unless he found the black captain, he could not keep the Barad Silme secure. Unfortunately, the Crowned Ringwraith was cunning. It remained deep within the enemy ranks, far from Talion's sight. At times, it must have slipped out to take control of the Haedir, but Talion had not seen it. Now, he awaited Ursa's return. She had been gone for several days. He hoped that it was only the distance that kept her away so long.

"Do not worry, Talion," said the Wraith, "She will return. Keep your mind on the battle. Something is stirring in the forest. We must dismantle their war machines."

"There are too many," said the ranger, "If we fall… we might arise in some distant land."

"We have taken a Haedir. Rest for a moment, then let us take advantage of our victory."

"Right!" said the ranger, "This is our chance!"

Talion dashed to the back of Morn's wall where he found a small boat awaiting him by the water. He fired an arrow and swiftly appeared atop it. Silently, he paddled to shore. There, he called one of his branded Caragor from the forest. Within a few minutes, it slipped behind the enemy ranks and reached him at the edge of the shore. The ranger quickly mounted it and dashed in the direction of Mordor's fires.

The ranger spent the next hour slaying the engineers and guards about the foundry. He found them constructing siege towers here to take the wall. However, as he tired himself in the battle, he heard the sound of war drums in the distance, and the horn of Mordor ringing over the plain. He swiftly rode out to the clearing to find the main army was now marching forward. Behind them were dozens of siege engines. These must have been transported or built far more inland. The ranger knew, even with his power, he could not hope to destroy them. He would need fire and that was not possible. He would have to return to the wall to unleash his trebuchets upon them. He chided himself for not using Atanáro to scout the main army before lending him to his wife. His lack of knowledge might cost them everything.

* * *

As midnight approached them, the war towers crashed against the adamant walls of Fort Morn. Their Orcs swiftly stormed the wall and lay waste to the defenders. Lithariel and Marwen fought atop it, cutting a path towards one of the towers. As for Talion, he sent shards of ice towards the invaders. As the Orc froze where the stood, he swung his sword hard into them, shattering them into shards of ice. He charged forward and tackled a great Uruk to the ground. The ranger swiftly pulled out his dagger and plunged it into his neck before the Orc could enclose its jaws on his own throat. Suddenly, the boot of a Uruk kicked him hard in the shin. As he pulled back dazed, several spear men charged out of the siege tower to skewer him. The ranger grabbed hold of the head of one spear and wrestled it free. He swung it around and slashed open the spear man. Then other he thrust at it so the Orc backed up again the wall. Talion charged the brute swiftly and kicked the Orc off of the wall. The last one let out a deep roar as he tried to run Talion through. The ranger knocked aside the enemy's spear head with the tip of his own weapon before sending a swift kick downward that shattered apart the enemy spear. He swung the blunt side of his spear into the Orc's rib and then twisted it around to impale the blade through his eye. He spun around swiftly as a dozen more Uruk began to pour out of the war machine. The ranger's hand glowed a feint blue, something all saw through the darkness of night. Waves of frost now fell upon the siege engine's bridge and poured onto the top of it. It quickly sealed into a thick layer of ice that blocked the invaders.

"One down," said Talion, "A dozen more to go."

"Aim for the siege towers!" shouted Bruz as he picked up an Orc and bit off its head.

He continued to curse and shout, "Bloody fools! What are you doing letting them get so close?"

The might Olog swung his club to the side and knocked about five Uruk, breaking their bodies with the single blow. He then grabbed hold of one of their corpses, of an obese Orc captain. He pulled back his arm and then launched him forward. His toss sent the corpse hurdling forward onto the bridge of a War tower like a boulder. The Uruk shrieked and chirped as they were battered about, and sent flying down to their deaths.

Talion said, "Do not let them take the wall! Fight to the very end! Dawn is coming!"

Suddenly, he heard the war drums from earlier in the distance. His blood-laden defense froze as he felt a chill run down his spine. Slowly, he turned towards the deep rumbles, towards the darkness before him. There he saw a feint light of fire. He heard the great steps of siege beasts and trolls approaching. Something large was creaking as if a wooden keep were moving. He summoned the eyes of the Bright Lord and gazed at it. The sight of his doom stole the heart from him. Upon six sets of great wheels, was a large wooden frame. Tied by ropes and chain, was a battering ram swinging slowly back and forth. It was shaped like a wooden wolf ready to pounce upon its prey. From it jaws, it breathed out fire, ember, smoke, and ash. The rumble of its wheels and chains seemed to groan as if it would spring ot life and devour all. About it, the black army was cheering as doom fell upon Morn.

"Grond! Grond! Grond!"

* * *

The ranger said, "We cannot move nor aim the trebuchets! How will we destroy it?"

He said, "The adamant will hold, but not the foundations! The gatehouse!"

The Bright Lord said, "It is over. They will breech it."

The siege beasts roared out in pain as their backs snapped at the great weight. Their masters whipped and burned them with hot irons between the plates and in the mouth. They continued to pull forward until their corpses rested at the foot of fortress. Now trolls began to pull on great ropes. They roared out in discomfort as the entire war machine began to creek. After the third pull, the wolf's head rocked forward. Its momentum carried it onward into the iron-plated gate. Talion heard the ram send the walls of the fortress trembling. Another great blow hammered at the gates. For the next two hours, the battering ram assaulted it. Talion sent ice and arrows down onto it, but it would not stop. The trolls took ages to slay with arrows and armored Olog soon replaced them. They hammered at the ice and and the battering ram began to shake loose the doors. At last, the iron gates split apart as their iron locks warped and the wood in the frame splintered. Fort Morn's doors burst open and in poured a thousand wolves and riders. Behind them were war trolls, including the captain of the invasion. Wearing two iron horns screwed into his flesh, he swung a great axe at the defenders, splitting open an entire company of soldiers. Talion sent down shield bearers to slow them down, but they were soon mowed down.

The ranger said, "Send out the forward ranks! Send word to seal the throne room! Defend the people to the death!"

"Breached!" shouted one of his Orc, "The keep is breached!"

* * *

From the distance, the black rider watched as Fort Morn fell. It had taken time to drag the wolf's head from Mordor, but it was worth it. The defenders were exhausted and spent. The battlements eradicated. Celebrimbor's ring was spent, unable to hinder them any longer. Now, victory would come swiftly.

"So falls the last of the resistance," said the Crowned One, "Storm the gates. Slay all who stand in your way."

"What of the peasants?" asked his captain.

"Slaves to rebuild Núrn… fertilizer for its crops."

"It is done then!" said his Orc captain, "Victory for the Dark Lord!"

Suddenly, the waters of Núrn began to stir. The sea split apart and out came the roars of the emerald Graug spirits. A hundred, pouring out water, let out deep bellows that resonated through the land. With them came out a thousand wolves of the forest. And from the sky came death. Jade wings of vines and branches woven together into the shape of drakes. From the ground beneath the invaders, burst out vines that pulled them in. As one, the beasts let out a bellow that overpowered the fear of the Nazgul itself, that struck fear into his heart. The Orc about him screamed in terror as their blood ran cold. They heard it. The fury of the earth, the rage of all life crying out as one. For their treachery, the land itself would rise up to smite them.

Leading the invasion was the crimson drake that poured down fire, as did his rider. The Overlord gazed upon the wolf's head below and summoned all of her magic. She summoned a great torrent of fire, pulling it into a fiery orb the size of her head. The orb drew in even more fire until an inferno was gathered. She fired it down into the wolf's head and it exploded into an inferno, sending wood and iron chain everywhere. The great war machine crashed down into the earth as Grond's mighty body was split in two. Wishing it to remain beyond repair, Ursa unleashed a cyclone of heat and sparks upon it, incinerating any poor engineer that came too close.

The ranger cried out, "Ursa… I love you!"

He fired up an arrow to her and landed beside her in the saddle.

"Talion! Thank goodness you are alive!" she said.

"When this is over," he said, "I will give you whatever you ask for."

"How about a son?"

"What?"

She said, "We will negotiate later. For now, we must turn the tides of this war."

* * *

Carnán's wrath had been all that Sauron feared. Her roots pulled in legions, her beasts devoured all in their path. The land transformed as green bore out of the earth and retook the accursed grounds. However, the battle was not over. The Orcs found ways to fend off the invaders. Their trolls surrounded the great Graug and the Nazgul's chosen cursed them. Their engineers unleashed vials that melted the great beasts with fires that could not be extinguished. As for Ursa, she and the drake were soon spent. What remained of the enemy continue to storm the fortress. Although tens of thousands had been devoured by Carnán asked, many legions still remained. As for the Bright Lords' army, they were utterly decimated. Less than a thousand had survived to hold off the gatehouse. Even those that came from Thaurband to cut them off only managed to slay a legion before being forced to retreat, losing a hundred goblins in the skirmish. Thaurband's gates shut once again, fearing desolation if the fortress were not locked down when the plague of invaders turned to them.

* * *

Outside the throne room, the tribesmen made their final stand. Queen Marwen fired off arrows at the Caragor and their riders. Meanwhile, Lithariel slaughtered the trespassers. By her side was her her most trusted captain, a man named Celtes. Her royal guard joined them both, cutting down the invaders with their halberds

Lithariel panted as her strength left her. A slash ran along her cheek and deep cut opened up her left arm. Even so, she continued to duel the enemy. One of the officers was aiming for her head, sending out a flail to split open her jaw. She grabbed hold of a wooden shield as she tried to fend him off. He swung viciously at her, but she caught the head of the weapon in her buckler. He tore it out of her hands, but she swiftly plunged her sword in his mouth. Suddenly, the dying captain was flung to the side. A great troll stood before her., his weapon responsible for the missing corpse. It was the forward captain of the legion. Crowned in horns and bladed armor, he had made short work of the defenders outside.

She gazed up at the Olog-Hai and gulped. She was not Talion. In that moment, it had never been clearer. No matter how much she aspired to be, she could not defeat this champion in forward combat. As the fear gripped her, she thought of all she was about to lose. Hundreds of lives resting in her hands. Her terrified eyes suddenly found solace.

She said, "For our people."

As she ran forward, the troll prepared to crush her. Suddenly, it began to flail about. Spiders were swarming it. Upon the troll, landed the mother of the troop. She bit into his head, pumping venom through his eye.

She said, "You will not… touch my master's… loved ones!"

The war troll grabbed hold of Madargon and swung her to the ground. She quickly flipped over and encircled the troll. About him, more spiders began to appear. The troll roared and unleashed the curse given to him by the Nazgul. She and the other spiders were knocked back. Those too close to the spell, fell over dead.

Lithariel and Marwen now charged forward. Marwen sent arrows up into his eyes. Meanwhile, Lithariel dashed at him, hoping to land a fatal blow. He swung his axe downward, splitting apart the stone pathway. She ran between his legs and appeared behind him. The shield maiden nimbly ran up the arrows sticking on his lower back. She kicked off of the arrow shafts and ran up to the side of his head. She sent her sword into his neck. She grunted as she tried to jam it deep enough to reach his arteries. The war troll roared out now. Lithariel could tell he was preparing to unleash another curse. Swiftly, she jumped off as his magic was unleashed once more. She saw Morgul flies and sparks begin to hover around her as the curse latched onto her. She stumbled and fell onto her knees as it took hold of her. The great troll now prepared a final blow to bring her life to an end. Suddenly, the sword of her captain plunged him in the stomach.

"Stand back my lady!" he said as he dug into his belly.

From behind, Marwen pulled up her daughter.

The war troll shouted, "Insolent filth!"

He sent a swift kick that knocked the man off of his feet and shattered his ribs. He no longer stirred.

"Celtes!" shouted Lithariel with a tear running down her face.

The war troll was bleeding from every orfice and his body was guzzling with venom. Yet he still towered above them as the victor. He marched over to her beloved captain, intending to break him.

Lithariel aimed her blade at the troll's wound in his belly and shouted, "You will not reach them! Your treachery ends here, dog of Sauron!"

The captain said, "Filthy tark! I will kill you and then storm your palace. Your peasants will serve my master well, scratching a living in dirt and rock. Under the heel of the Orc!"

He pointed his blood-soaked axe at her, an axe that had already slain a hundred as he breached the city. Lithariel gazed up in fear, but still stood firm. Her sword remained aim steadily at his throat. Suddenly, from behind, Madargon's legs wrapped around him. Her offspring poured off her and covered his face. Her jaws sunk into his wounds and spilled out more venom. The war troll fell down forward onto his knees as the venom began to paralyze him. Up to him ran Lithariel with her sword in hand. The troll tore at his back with one hand while he spun his axe in the other. His axe slashed open the bodyguards that tried to approach him, splitting apart the last of the tribesmen gaurd. However, Lithariel was faster. She ducked below the swing that would have hewn apart an oxen and thrust forward her sword. It slipped between his teeth and plunged into his throat. The Olog left out another wail of pain as she dug it in deeper. The grand captain was slain.

Tearing out the blade, Lithariel looked to the spider and said, "Thank you!"

Marwen fired arrows as they retreated closer to the palace. Ahead of Lithariel, the shield-guard now crouched down with spears drawn. They held back the enemy for a time. However, they could see more trolls and Uruks heading their way. Indeed, another legion had come to execute the survivors. It was over. There would be no surviving the rest of the legion.

From above, the drake sent out a long train of fire. Atanáro landed at the head of the invaders, picking up an Orc and swallowing it whole. Down dropped Overlord Ursa, a portion of her magic returned to her. Her ranger pulled on the reigns, and the dragon took flight once again. He could not stay here even in the last line of defenses until he found the Nazgul. As for Ursa, she sent out fire into the forward ranks, and scattered them.

Panting, she turned to see Lithariel and Marwen gazing at her. She then looked to her feet where hundreds of spiderlings were marching about. There, beside her, stood Madargon.

"Madargon" said Ursa, "Thank you. You've saved my people."

"Of course… Master"

Black smoke blinded them.

A fell sword came down into the back of the spider.

Ursa stood in shock as she saw the Nazgul commander before her.

"Shelob will pay for her treachery," he said with a hiss, "As for you… you will be brought screaming before the Dark Lord."

Ursa said, "I will kill you!"

"I am already dead," answered the Ringwraith as he drew his bloody sword to the side, "Your world has ended already. Ten legions storm your city. Come with me before the Dark lord. He beckons you, Ursa of Fire."

"What of the people here?"

"They will be spared. Slaves, but left alive, saved from the fate of my chosen. Talion will be stripped of the parasite, and given life by a new ring. You will live in service of the Lord of Middle Earth."

"There is no life," said Ursa, "In that path. As it is, I will have to refuse. Our victory is at hand."

The Nazgul turned at the sound of a fell horn in the distance. Marching from the North was a grand army of twelve thousand. Gathered form Gorgoroth, Cirith Ungol, Udûn, and from Seregost, they now followed the order sent out by Talion a month ago. Ursa smiled as her final plan came to fruition. The twelve thousand would not have been enough to defend Fort Morn, and if they had been seen marching earlier, the Nazgul would have sent his larger legions to wipe them out before they could ever reach Núrn. However, a delayed assault upon the vulnerable enemy could be different. From behind, they could break through the remaining ranks. Months of marching had led them to this, following in the trail of Sauron's army. Now both armies erupted at once.

"It is futile," said the Ringwraith, "You will join him, as will your beloved. My master's will cannot be denied. Many before you have tried. All have failed."

With that, he vanished from sight.

The great armies collided and were swiftly massacred. Within hours, both were left broken. However, Ursa's army proved victorious with five thousand remaining over the enemy's remaining thousand. As such, they promptly surrendered. As for their master, he had fled. So ended the battle for the green lands, leaving them desolate and burning.


	25. The Recovery of Núrn and the Saboteurs

**Chapter Twenty-Five: The Recovery of Núrn and the Saboteurs**

"Do you remember? The chatter and stirrings of your brothers and sisters as you rustled about the nest? The sound of my voice as I sung you to sleep? The scent of blood as you took your first bite? My child, I knew you would thrive. I saw it in your eyes. This is not the end."

The voice of the old grandmother echoed softly through the canyon. About her, were the curled up corpses of dead spiderlings. The arrows of Orcs ran through their jaws and bellies. Upon the corpse of the youngest, stood the largest of them, save for the queen. The brood mother poked lightly at the dead spiderling with her leg.

Shelob said, "There will be other mates, and other eggs to bear. Although the brood has died, there will be another. Our children are born by the hundreds. Many will perish, many will thrive. That is the way of the world. We devour and are devoured. We hunt and are hunted. But you… you my child will not perish. Such kindness and bravery has been yours since I bore you. Once I am gone, you will take on the burden of being queen."

"I… I cannot… their deaths burden… me. They were… so young. I failed… to protect them."

The queen of the mountain uttered, "Then become strong… protect what you love the most."

* * *

"Madargon!"

The spider looked up as her consciousness returned. She saw the Overlord of Núrn gazing down at her, her eyes watering with tears.

"My… lady…" said the spider, "I am glad… that you survived."

Ursa said, "I have wrapped the wound but… I cannot stop the bleeding."

Madargon answered softly, "My body can… no longer move. My wound... will not mend.. from the Morgul blade. I will bleed... until I fall… and arise another."

The spider said, "Please… kill me… before the curse… causes me pain. Let me die… as I was."

The queen closed her lips tight and nodded. She held back her tears now and looked down at the dying brood mother with respect and reverence.

Madargon whispered, "Was I able… to protect your brood?"

Ursa's eyes wavered from such words, understanding the the words from one mother to another.

The Overlord said, "To the very end. I will not forget you Madargon, daughter of Shelob."

From behind her, Ursa heard the scurrying of a thousand feet. She looked down to see spiders, about an inch and others over a foot, crawling towards the dying princess. They surrounded their brood mother on all sides. They lowered themselves prostrate.

Madargon said to them, "My children... Forgive me… for sending you… to war. I wanted… as mother did… a world… where we could live. No more shadows. No more hiding. I thought… we could live in it…. Together with… the brood of… the Overlord."

Ursa could not understood their tongue as they chirped and screeched at her, but she knew they were words of consolation and promises to carry on. From behind, Lithariel limped forward, clutching at her grievous wound. Her somber eyes turned to Ursa.

"Your flames will cause her pain. I will do it. I will give her a warrior's end.*

Madargon said to Ursa, "My lady… let it end…"

The Queen of Nurn furrowed her brow as her heart turned to sorrow. How had it come to this? Amidst victory, the Crowned Nazgul had come as if in spite to slay her ally. To take away those she held dear and leave her to wallow in her grief. At last, the Overlord's eyes regained their strength, tempered as steel now before her fallen comrade.

"Very well. Farewell my precious Madargon."

The blade of Lithariel cut off the spider's head, giving the Ungol a painless passing. Then the Queen of Núrn summoned up her fire in all its power. In a moment, the body was reduced to not but ash.

"Her ashes will be spread about the land, wind, and sea," said Ursa, "Now, you must live on. Your warriors… your mothers… have you not inherited her will?"

The Ungol looked up at her for a moment. Then they turned to gaze at the ashes of the dead a little longer. They said nothing as they did, but Ursa knew why they remained.

* * *

Talion walked up towards the Queen and Princess of the tribes. They sat on a long reclining chair in one of his estate's guest rooms. About them were injured guards. Lithariel was bruised heavily from head to toe with bandages wrapped about her left arm, and blood still trickling down her face. Her mother was tending to her wound, stitching together the gash on her forehead. Lithariel bit into a piece of leather as her mother wove the thread through her flesh, knitting it back together again. As she cut loose the thread, the shieldmaiden looked up at the ranger.

She said, "We survived… Thanks to your bravery and tactics."

The ranger said, "That was Ursa's strategy. Mine was the ships."

Marwen asked, "Did they escape?"

"Yes," said Talion, "The tribesmen and their families rest aboard the black ships, floating on the sea. We will call them back soon. But… your warriors... so few have survived. I am sorry."

He spoke of what had occurred as the enemy breached the gates. The Nazgul had sent ships upon the water to sink his upon the shore. They surrounded Núrn on all sides. Many members of the tribes refused to leave for the Island of Carnán, preferring to stay in the siege. The ranger had sent his dragon to burn down the ships and others vessels he took for himself. However, many of those he was evacuating were cut off, and found themselves barricaded themselves inside Ursa's palace as the enemy poured within the walls. He had returned to rescue Ursa, Lithariel, and Marwen from the invasion, but they would not leave. Instead, they chose to hold off the enemy long enough for the ranger to prepare the commandeered ships. The people would then be carried over the wall by latter. Although the result was Talion's army being decimated, most of the villagers had survived the siege.

The Queen said, "You saved my people."

The ranger said, "I only wish I could have saved their land."

"He is right," said Lithariel as she stared blankly downwards, "It has been ravaged. By now, our mansion has been plundered and burned to the ground."

Marwen said, "Oh? It was a rickety old thing full of junk. The fields and forests will return in time, fertilized by the ash and the corpses of war."

Lithariel asked, "How can you say that? It was our home."

"Our home lives on," said Marwen, "In the hearts of our people. We are the Corsairs. Once the sea itself was our kingdom. We knew our hordes of treasure could be stolen and looted at any given moment. However, there is treasure here that cannot be so easily forgotten. My child… Núrn will live on."

"How can that be?" asked her daughter, "How can you smile amidst this despair?"

"We are alive. You are alive, my child. My greatest treasure."

She pressed her forehead up against that of her daughter. A single tear trickled down Lithariel's eye as the Queen remained peaceful.

Marwen whispered, "One day you will be queen and a mother. Then you will understand."

"I will try," said her daughter softly.

Together, they looked up at the ranger who smiled lightly at their close bond.

He said, "I see that Núrn is in the best of hands, even without my aid."

Marwen said, "I appreciate the gesture. However, your aid would be even more appreciated. Who else will build us a new, far grander palace?"

The ranger shook his head at her teasing and said, "Fear not. I will send goblins to help rebuild your land."

The Queen said, "You have done so much… So much for us and the world of men. One day, Middle Earth will need to thank you."

The ranger did not answer. Such words could no longer reach them. However, he smiled seeing them both so spirited.

Somewhat flustered, Lithariel spoke, "As do we. Talion… We… I… I do thank you. Our little piece of land was without hope before your arrival. As was I."

Talion said, "I don't know what to say. I believe you have always been strong. You certainly fought bravely today. Many believe royalty's place is behind the walls of their castle, yet you remained for those that could not escape. For the weak and weary. As did I. I wonder if we are we brave or at our wits end?"

"Perhaps both," said Marwen, "Now go. Be with your wife."

He bowed lightly to them both, and turned away. Marwen stared at her daughter's eyes now. They remained fixed on his image as Talion left their quarters. Lithariel then let out a deep sigh and gave a bitter smile.

She said, "Ursa is a lucky woman."

Marwen said, "She certainly is. Now Lithariel, you are too old to pout over such things. You are young and beautiful. Love will come to you."

"Perhaps," said Lithariel, "I do not worry over it. I'm simply being true to myself."

Her eyes shuttered as she said in a whisper that which was most painful.

"It's the only way I can say goodbye."

She then stood up and said, "I will go tend to the ranks. Celtes was injured for my sake."

And so Lithariel left her mother for a time and went over to the underground rooms where the injured were recovering. Inside, she saw her doctors tending to them. Her physicians had offered their services, but Ursa insisted they first treat those in dire need. Some had already perished from their wounds. Most of her warriors had been slaughtered in the final defense of Núrn, all for the sake of defending their people. They had hearts as brave as Gondor's finest.

The shieldmaiden walked up to a bed where the captain of the guard lay. His ribs had been shattered and were now being readjusted. His arm had also snapped from the mighty Olog's assault, and was tied to a wooden piece. One of his eyes remained wrapped tightly in bandages, along with his temple.

"Lady Lithariel…" he whispered, "Why are you here? Go and get some rest."

"Are you ordering me around, Celtes?"

"Perhaps I am," he said with a smile, "Do not look at me with such pity. I am fortunate to be alive. That war troll slew our comrades with a single blow and yet here I stand... Well... Lay."

"You are too stout and hardheaded to die, even to a troll it seems."

"I am."

She answered, "Then you must mend swiftly and return to my service."

"Well… this bed is quite comfortable… "

Lithariel said, "That's an order, Captain."

"Then I shall," he said, "For the sake of my lady."

* * *

Atop one a fisherman's barge, stood an old tribesman. He looked at the fiery wreckage of the flotilla Talion had incinerated. Even now, they burned atop of the water.

He said, "Well then… we'll need a fine catch to feed those boys."

Suddenly, out from the water came a dark, slippery claw. It reached out onto the side of the ship. The boat slowly began to rock. The old man spun around in fear. He saw a slender goblin with a metal jaw staring back at him. A thin, crooked dagger was in his hand.

"A survivor!" said the old man. He pulled out a dagger from his side, but the assassin ran him through. He pulled out the blade from the man's stomach and then slid it across his throat.

He grit his teeth and said, "Impossible! How could we lose to the manfilth? They will pay. First, his precious island will burn."

* * *

Carnán shut her eyes as she fell into sleep. Her body was weary from the blood and battle. She had spread herself across an entire army. Although much power of hers remained, she felt heavy from all that had transpired. Now sleep called to her, to replenish and heal what had been lost. Her seeds had spread across Núrn, but they might not take root. As Carnán's body retreated into the great tree, she thought of the scorched lands beyond the sea, at the foot of her domain. The scent of her young's burning flesh haunted her.

As she shut her eyes, the forest spoke these words.

"Then I will leave it to the heroes of this age. For a little, while at least."

* * *

The ranger walked quickly, not stopping to mend nor rest after the hectic battle. He wished to see her at least once, having only gazed on her but a moment before they parted. At last, Talion found Ursa away from her throne. She was standing atop the wall with her planners and strategists, giving out orders.

The Bright Lord said, "Ah… does she seek to shame me? For one so weak and shy, she has certainly latched onto the role of queen. She can speak of her disdain for it as much as she liked, but power suits her."

Talion said, "Perhaps it is not all bloodlines as it was for my people. Perhaps good rulers can come from even Mordor's forsaken."

"Perhaps," said Celebrimbor, "The right to rule, to wield power, is earned it would seem. Now… let us look ahead. Leave the planning to Ursa for a moment and consider what we have done. Our army is decimated as is their own. However, we have six thousand Orcs and thousands more guarding our kingdoms. Sauron is weak. He poured out his army from Barad-dûr and he will dare not abandon Minas Morgul. He has longed for it for too long to empty the city. He will not have the legions to stop us. His Nazgul are scattered about searching for Haedir. Now is the time to strike."

Talion asked, "What are you proposing?"

"Let us muster my army. All of them. Let us march to Barad-dûr."

* * *

The fisherman's boat landed softly on the shores of Carnán. The goblin aboard it looked ahead for any enemies or spies. He then tied to the boat to a tree branch on the water's edge and lept off of it. He scurried into the small patch of forest, into the thick undergrowth.

"Gaz? Baz? Where are you? Argh, stinkin' slowpokes."

He then heard great lumbering steps up ahead as three Ologs walked out from behind a tent of trees. They were tall Olog, although not as tall as Bruz. Each wore an iron helmet and a set of Graug ribs tied to their backs. The bones protruded up like the branches of a tree. The Olog all looked similar, as if they were born from the same Olog mother.

Gaz said, "Quiet you! The Witch's spies are all about. They've been on patrol, looking for survivors."

"Gaz!" said the assassin, "This is your fault! We should have given information to the Nazgul. Instead, we have nothing."

The Olog said, "Easy now. Wasn't anything a few trolls could do. It's better to dig into the island while Bruz's forces are still on the mainland. This is our chance, boys!"

Baz said, "You're absolutely right. I hear the spirit's beasties have gone to sleep. She must have tired herself out sending all of 'em swimming across the lake."

The assassin said, "This plan better be a good one. I can't go back to her ranks now."

"It is a bloody good one" said Gaz, "The sanctuary called um… Had the word 'deer' in it."

Daz replied, "Amdir."

"That's the one!" said Gaz, "A lot of the Orcs are on patrol of the borders so this be our chance to slip in. We'll take their little one hostage. We'll have the Witch kill herself. She'll do it to save her daughter, mark my words. We and my brothers will mount a little rebellion and take the fortress. Bruz aint there so there will be no trouble. The gates will be unlocked about now to prepare for his return."

The assassin said, "With the child, we could bargain. Only problem is the rest of your plan. There are too few of us."

Gaz said, "We'll have the ranger free Bruz from his spell and come to us… as one of our demands. How's that sound? Bruz will realize he's been tricked and join us, no doubt about it."

"Brilliant!" said Baz and Gaz together.

"It's risky. The Overlords could return here any moment," said the goblin, "You should have attacked when the siege began. Their eyes are quickly returning."

Baz said, "Easy now. The island was on close watch during the siege. Besides, that Witch gave false info that all the Warchiefs and their army were still here. Bruz and his cronies left at night when I was still sleeping. They acted like nothing had changed. Then I'm hearing about a victory and I got to thinking, 'Hey! They ain't here! Let's take the island!'"

The assassin said, "I'll tell you what, you oaf. Me and my goblins can get you the boy, but if you can't get in that fortress, I'm out. I'll do things my way."

Baz said, "Fine, you fickle bastard. This plan of mine is going to work. When all is said and done, I'll have my revenge and the throne for myself."

* * *

Overlord Ursa continued to speak to her underlings as night approached. She at last began to yawn and her stomach growled. She was utterly exhausted, drained of her stamina from the long siege. How many weeks had it been? How long had it been since she had a full meal, since she slept for an entire night, since she saw Inga?

"Ursa"

The Overlord felt warmth return to her as she heard his loving voice. She turned to see her Ranger walking up to her. She had spoken with him only for a moment after their victory. With fires needing to be put out, breaches in the wall, enemies unaccounted for, Haedir to claim, and other threats, Ursa was not given any time to breathe. However, Talion's presence alone was enough to sooth her.

He said, "You should rest."

"I will in time," said the Overlord, "For now, they need their queen… and their king."

"I will watch over the fortress for a while. Go and fly to the island. Go see Inga."

"You are so sweet, even as you ache for her, you think of me," said Ursa, "But you know that I cannot. I must see to my duties."

"Very well then," said Talion, "But I will return by midnight. If you are not in bed, I will carry you there myself, for all your goblins to see."

Ursa wasn't sure how she felt about such a scene. The Overlord in her knew such displays were bad for her reputation, but the lover in her did not mind the thought at all. She laughed aloud at his promise.

"Well then," he said, "I take my leave. I will go organize the defenses to the north."

As he began to leave, he felt a hand slip upon his cape and hold it there. The ranger turned to see Ursa's slender hands tugging at it as she stared at him longingly. Her eyes were bloodshot and bagged. Her body was utterly exhausted and pushed past her limits. However, her gaze was not without love.

She said, "Hold me."

No more words were said. None needed to be in that moment. Words of strategy could wait. Words of reassurance could not compete with the entwining of their bodies and hearts. The ranger walked up behind her and slipped his arms over her shoulders. She shut her eyes as his head pressed against her own. She felt the scratch of his stubble and the sound of his breath. Her hand slipped up to the side of his cheek. Her sharp black claws gently stroked his face and neck. She felt Talion's lips kiss the side of her neck now. The Overlord now blushed. She looked away in embarrassment, afraid her nearby goblins would see her in an unsightly position. However, Talion's presences soon flushed away such worries away. The Orcs began to vanish. The fires disappeared from her sight. The wails of the living fell silent. The smell of smoke in the air was no more. She was back in the forest dancing with him on a moonlit night. They were by the sea, pressing their feet in the cool sand as the tide pulled in a frozen wave. They were awake on a quiet afternoon playing with Inga.

The ranger felt a smile crossed his face involuntarily. He too felt whole. After so many years, he had moved past his mourning and new love had completed his aching heart. They stood, for what felt like ages, atop the wall of Fort Morn, atop a sea of blood, smoke, and carnage. However, there was still life stirring here. The sapling that grew from the ash… the cries of an owl bringing a meal of vermin to her hatchlings… the cries of an infant as its mother shushed it to sleep. All things worked to protect that precious life. Talion looked up at the full moon that now illuminated them both. He realized that as long as he had Ursa and Inga, he could endure the harsh journey ahead. However, he hoped that it would soon be over. Right now, there was hope that Sauron could be defeated, and that he could live in peace with the woman he held dearly in his arms.

* * *

As morning came upon them, Talion and Ursa lay asleep in their bed. They had only slept a few hours, but it was much needed. The ranger opened his eyes to see Ursa hovering over him, her arms stretched out on each side of his face. She gazed down at him lovingly and giggled.

The ranger asked, "Ursa? What is it?"

She said, "Even though you were busy, you came to sleep with me."

He said, "I promised, didn't I? That I would check on you. I can't have my Queen passing out during her duties."

The half-Orc leaned down and kissed him upon the lips. As she pulled away from him, she looked sad.

She said, "I fear we will not be enjoy moments like this for some time."

The ranger said, "The war's end approaches. Whether to our end or that of evil."

"Then…" she said, "Will you spend this morning with me? Just an hour is all I ask."

Talion said, "Very well. The Bright Lord is away branding the prisoners. We should have it for ourselves."

 **Adult Sexy Times Ahead. Skip to the next chapter if you wish.**

Ursa sighed in relief. She slid backwards and rubbed her claws on his chest, causing goosebumps to arise there. Her hands wandered lower down. She began to unstrap his belt and pulled off his pants. Talion's nails dug into the bed sheets as she had her way with him. His chest heaved as she took him into her mouth, laying hot breath upon his flesh. His wife then came up upon him so that she lay directly over his manhood. She lay kisses on his neck, her razor-sharp teeth tickling his neck. Talion took a hand under her chin and kissed her gently. However, they continued to crash their lips upon each other, each time their kiss becoming more and more passionate. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her in close. Ursa moaned as his lips pressed hungrily against hers and his arms tightened around her, warming her frozen flesh. She let out a deep exhale as she felt a chill run up her spine as a wave of pleasure hit her. Her talons wrapped about his head and she moved over him. His powerful, rippling arms held her up so that Ursa was kissing him from above. As she came down, her gentle, skilled fingers took control of his shaft and maneuvered it into her lower lips. Her mouth opened, and she bore her fangs at him as she eased into it. Talion grit his teeth as she slowly devoured him, pressing against him lovingly in every way. His hands rubbed against her pale back and then moved to her hips. He began to guide her up and down. Ursa pulled up her arms now and combed her hair behind her. The ranger's mouth now began to sample her breasts, his tongue mischievously running over her pink flesh. She let out a louder cry now, and began move faster of her own accord. Her breathing became harder as she drew him in and out. His hands pressed down on her supple backside, forcing her to become fully impaled upon him.

Ursa said breathlessly, "Talion… I have not forgotten our promise."

He said, "You wanted a son, I know. Let us think of such things when the war is over."

She said, "I agree. Alas, that life may be born right here and now."

Ursa smiled mischievously as she took him in. She savored the feeling of her soft, tender flesh against his hard, rigid body. Such a beautiful match. She wrapped her legs firmly around his back and her claws became entwined over his shoulders. Talion groaned again, letting out another growl of lust into her ear. He felt himself melting within her as sweat glistened and slipped down his muscular frame. His legs and forearms buckled and billowed with each passing second. His body felt ablaze with heat and fervor, as he conjoined so lovingly with his wife. With a passionate kiss upon his mouth, Ursa drew him in one last time. The ranger's back tightened and arched as he felt release, as he poured lovingly into her, filling her so completely. He groaned wildly from the pleasure as she drew him in further.

As their pleasure slowly ended, Ursa was overcome with a sense of happiness and peace, even as something pained the back of her mind. She felt the the passion of the encounter make way for tenderness as her mind poured forth.

She said, "Talion… no matter what happens to us… please never forget this moment. Never forget how much I love you."

His eyes widened, a bit frightened as if they were her parting words. Yet when he peered into her sorrowful eye, he saw that it brimmed with love and hope all the same.

"I could never forget," he said, "Your love is endless… You gave me a home. You brought my world back to me"

Ursa's eye began to water as she smiled at him and said, "And you loved me when no else would. You made my dreams come true. Even now, I am beginning to realize that a world without war is possible."

Talion said, "Ursa… that world is at hand. I know it."

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : It should be noted that the timeline of Ursa and Talion's scenes are not always the same as that of scenes on the Island of Carnán. The next chapter opens with Hallas, but it is only two days after the victory. Considering the goblin assassin had sailed to the island (a journey of many days), they can't possibly be occurring at the same time. Thank you again for so many follows and reviews.


	26. The Sacrifice and the Broken Bond

**Chapter Twenty-Six: The Sacrifice for the Young and the Broken Bond**

Ursa said to her bodyguard, "Look Hallas… you are to be greeted home as a hero."

 _A hero?_

Ursa said, "Please understand… your duties are not just to me, but to the free people of this land. It is their lives you are saving each time you draw up your sword. Your sacrifice will bring peace for the next generation."

Hallas asked Ursa, "A world where Inga will be safe?"

She answered, "A world where all children are safe. Where they can grow up without fear of torment and war."

He whispered, "A world without war? Is such a thing possible?"

The young man now awoke in his cot. The words of that triumphant day back on the shore rung through his head, bright as the break of dawn pouring in through his window. Outside he heard the craftsmen and carpenters at work as they built Amdir's estate, making ready for Queen Ursa's arrival. As he opened the window, such sounds poured in all the greater. Yet the cool breeze of the island soothed his heart and mind. It brought in the scent of the wild, of Carnán's breath upon nature itself. He sighed as he turned to grab his gear, to dawn his armor and sword. He would train as he always did, knowing that if Ursa failed, war would come to him. It would come to the one he was sworn to protect.

* * *

Over the next few days, Ursa and Talion had finished the most necessary of preparations. They had begun to repair the broken gate, as well as reorganized their army to add in the newly branded goblins. The border had also been secured, as had the Haedir of the realm. With these items taken care of, they began to plan their trip to the isle, to see their daughter once again. Right now, they prepared to see Bruz off as he sailed his flotilla back to the Island of Carnán.

* * *

"You have done well, Overlord Bruz," said Ursa to the Olog-Hai "You and your legions fought bravely. My goblins tell me that you personally slew one of the captains. Without your efforts, many of my friends would have perished."

Talion said, "Ursa is right. You have proven yourself yet again."

The Olog rubbed the back of his head bashfully and said, "Ah… you two. It's nothing. Just popping heads like I promised. It doesn't even come close to fulfilling my debt to the Bright Lord. You saved my life. Made me Overlord. If you will have me, I will march to Barad-dûr by your side."

The Ranger said, "We lost many fine Olog. I will take you up on that offer."

Bruz said, "Wonderful. I can't wait to face the Dark Lord's finest head on. It's gonna be bloody good fun."

He then turned to Ursa and said, "I owe you thanks too, I suppose. You've been kind to a ruffian like me. If I didn't have so many blood brothers, I'd make you my blood sister."

"Blood brothers?" said Ursa, "I did not know you had blood brothers, Bruz. What are their names?"

"Ah… Baz, Gaz, and Daz… triplets. Or so they say."

She answered lightheartedly, "Such interesting names. Are they here in Núrn? I would love to give them positions."

He said, "They uh… They went up on a hunt in the North. Haven't seen them in years."

"Is that so?" she asked, "Well, I hope you are reunited with your brethren in a timely fashion."

"Me too m'lady."

Bruz quickly turned away. His gaze became somber now.

"If you… if you'll excuse me, I've got some Overlord duties to attend to"

With that, he marched stiffly out of the room. Ursa tilted her head, wondering what duties he had left on the mainland. The Ranger paid him no mind and Celebrimbor remained seated on the throne of the king. None knew the weight the Olog carried.

* * *

On the Island of Carnán, the great spirit remained in her slumber. It would likely be many months before she emerged once again. In the center of the island's main forest, a new outpost was being built. A large wall made of white stone, granite and marble. It was built into a ring with tall ivory spires on each side. Within these walls was a small, white palace. Erected around it were small houses and cottages. Beyond them, small farms were built with mills and water wheels. Amdir, the sanctuary of Orcs and Man, could hold a few hundred villagers in its breadth. However, its construction was not yet complete. The outer wall had its foundations, but many gaps remained in its defenses. Many houses had yet to be built, requiring more tribesmen cross the sea. For now, the enclave remained more of a a dream than a sanctuary. Few goblins and tribesmen wished to live on a secluded island away from their queen and governed by a mysterious spirit.

* * *

In the new palace of Queen Ursa, her daughter was resting softly. Her maid, servants, and guards all attended to her. However, the defenses here could not compare to those in Fort Morn. For the most part, Hallas and Orison were her main hope of protection. On that morning, news had reached them of the victory over the enemy two days ago.

Hallas says, "I see. My Queen is alive!"

His tired eyes seemed to return to life, and his cheeks became rosy again. He had waited for many days with no word from Fort Morn. He could only watch as smoke arose from above the wall. Once, he had seen the drake, but the rider had not stopped to greet those in Amdir. All this time, he had waited in fear, knowing that he might not see her again. He did not wish it to end this way. If he could see her one last time, he would beg her for forgiveness. He would smile for her one last time.

The messenger Orc said, "Yes. Once the region is stable, I am sure the Queen will return here for her daughter."

Orison said, "Good. Amdir's defenses are not yet ready. There are too few guards here and too many ways for assassins to slip in."

Hallas said, "It's alright, Master. The enemy has been defeated. Sauron's army failed."

Orison said, "So then Ursa and Inga are safe."

He let out a deep sigh.

 _Forgive me, my daughter. I should have fought by your side._

Hallas said, "If she had died… I would not have been able to forgive myself. It was my blunder that sent me away from her side. It seems that this is all I can do now."

Orison said, "I hear that Princess Lithariel has offered you a place amongst her guards."

Hallas shook his head and said, "My promise was to Ursa. Even in exile, I will not abandon it."

"You speak of duty like a man of Gondor."

"Gondor," said Hallas, "I would like to see the domain. To see Minas Tirith, the last land of the free."

His master said, "Aye, as would I. To gaze upon the white city. Oh, it is beautiful beyond compare."

"Now," he continued, "I am off. I have duties to attend to."

Hallas smiled and said, "You're off to the pub, old man."

"Disrespectful youth," said his master, "I'll straighten you out when this is all over. I'll have you swing a thousand strokes a day."

"See you later, Master," said Hallas wryly.

He watched as the weary ranger left the room, heading out to the village where a small brewery had been established. Upon Orison's suggestion, Ursa had installed it as a means to attract the tribesmen and Orc alike. It seemed that for all their differences, both races shared a love for alcohol.

Hallas now turned towards the small crib before him. Inside, he saw Inga sleeping soundly. Her nurse, Ivorwen, was beside her, reading her a fairy tale.

Hallas said, "She has already fallen asleep."

"Oh…' said the woman.

"Why do you read to her? Surely a baby has no understanding of it."

Ivorwen said, "Her mother loves books. The Queen would read to her at night. I think she hoped to instill that love of the written word."

He said, "You are kind for a nurse. I see why Ursa feared the child would call you mother."

The maid said, "I am merely doing my duties, giving the child the love she needs until her parents return."

"Even so," said the young man, "Queen Ursa would tell me that she sent away many girls hoping for the position. They could not hide their disgust at… Well, the mother and child. She said you were the only who smiled when she saw Inga."

Ivorwen looked away in embarrassment and said, "I… I don't know what to say."

"Then say nothing," he said with a smile.

"Hallas…"

Her voice was stiff and frozen.

He stared at her in confusion. Her face seemed pale as if every muscle within it had tightened. He realized then that it was fear he saw painted upon her. He spun around to see a goblin with an iron jaw standing before him. The daggers in his hand were dripping with blood, the blood of the dead guards outside. Hallas' eyes remained fixed on his opponent as he tore out his blade from the scabbard.

"Well then," said the assassin, "seems only one remains."

From behind him, several other goblins appeared, each one wielding the same crooked dagger. The all leered over at Inga.

Hallas said, "Leave at once!"

"Not without the child," said the assassin, "She's coming with us."

He then roared out "Guards! Guards! Quickly!"

The goblin pulled out a crossbow and said, "Your mansion's walls are thick and the alarm bell is far. Those outside will not hear you. Now hand over the pup!"

As Hallas said nothing, the assassin spoke, "Tch. Gut him!"

His underlings swiftly moved forward. Two fell upon Hallas, while the third dashed for the nurse. The young ranger quickly moved backwards to get closer to Ivorwen. However, he realized he did not want to risk the duel getting any closer to Inga's crib. As he dodged a sudden swipe of the blade, the nurse fell back into the corner of the room.

"Hallas!" she screamed, "Help me!"

He said, "Come to me. Grab Inga. I will clear a path for you!"

However, his words were not to be. Ivorwen tossed the table by her side down to the ground to cut off her killer. She swiftly dashed for the crib and reached for the infant. As she did, the assassin sent his blade into the back of her neck. He held her there and jammed the blade into her flesh again and again. Hallas could not turn as he heard her gasp for air and fall down dead. He roared out and batted the enemy's dagger away. In that moment, he wished he had not abandoned his buckle and short sword for the power of a longsword. Surrounded by four goblins, he was at great disadvantage. Behind him, he heard Inga crying. The goblins' claws now wrapped around her.

Hallas's mind filled with rage as he heard the child cry. He swung hard at the assassins in front of him, causing them to raise their daggers in defense. However, it had been a feint. He stopped the sword at the last moment and spun around. He bolted hard for the crib with his sword over his head. The blade came down on the Orc's head, splitting him in half. From behind, he felt the other goblins stab at him. Their blades bounced off his armor. He spun around now and swung at them. One Orc reached out and grabbed him by the throat as their blades collided. Hallas could not beak free. The other assassin came at him from the side. Hallas propped himself up against the back of the crib as they struggled so that the second Orc could find no opening. However the Orc's claws were now digging into his throat. He released one of his hands from the grip of his sword, allowing his opponent to push him against the crib. In that moment, Hallas's free hand grabbed hold of the dead assassin's dagger that lay in the crib. He jammed it into the neck of his attacker. The third goblin now retreated back to the side of his leader.

The leader of the Orc said, "You are certainly strong for a Tark pup. However, surprises will not save you here. Drop your weapon and I will let you live. Resist and you both die."

Hallas aimed his sword at the leader of the goblins. He quickly glimpsed to the side to see the other Orc was trying to circle around him. He remained backed against the crib. As much as he did not wish to endanger Inga, he needed the cover her large wooden bed provided. From his ears, he heard the child bawling and screaming out in fear. The dead Orc's body had landed by her side. Its black blood trickled about the beautiful blankets and pillows and onto her flesh and clothes.

"I will not ask again, whelp! Why do you defend one pathetic pup? Is your life really worth so little to you?"

The young ranger answered, "That is my duty. No… it is more than that. The Dark Lord's army has been broken and the people of this land have begun to understand that peace is possible. This child has a chance to know a life without death in a new age. Ursa believes it. My master believes it, and… I believe it."

"The Dark Lord cannot be slain," said the assassin, "Yours are the words of a child pretending to be a soldier."

"But I am a soldier," said Hallas, his as calm as a stone, "And I will defend this child... for she is the hope of that new age. With my life, I will not let you pass! I will not let you use the life of an innocent child for your schemes! With my dying breath, I promise I will kill you!"

He roared as he launched forward. His sword swung wide, causing both Orcs to step backwards. His sword quickly aimed forward, launching like a spear at the Orc leader. The goblin ducked and appeared by Hallas' side. His blade slashed at his throat. The boy pulled up his wrist and blocked it with his vambrace. He twisted the sword around and sent it downward in that same moment. The leader blocked it with his blade but fell backwards. The second goblin now tackled Hallas from the side and pinned him against the wall. The boy rammed the pommel of his sword hard down into its skull. As the Orc fell, Hallas twisted over his sword and rammed the blade deep into the Orc's spine. As he did, the leader pulled back his arm, using the second of distraction to his advantage.

The goblin leader now tossed his dagger forward. As Hallas slew the assassin, the dagger lodged itself in his throat. The boy buckled from the pain as he reached for it. However, he had not the strength to pull it out and realized it would spill all his blood. The assassin leader now sent a kick forward and knocked the boy against the wall. Hallas fell down and dropped the sword to his side. The goblin reached down and picked him up. He opened his mouth and bit down on the side of the ranger's neck. Hallas began to choke and moan as the assassin tore out his flesh and devoured it. However, as he faded from the world, he was able to recover his senses for one moment. The assassin now pulled out his dagger and thrust it between the young man's eyes. As the killing blow fell, Hallas's metal gauntlet grabbed hold of the dagger. With his free hand, he tore out the blade dug into his throat. He slid it into the ear of his enemy. He pulled it free from the flesh it was lodged within and and rammed it in hard through the goblin's throat. The assassin hissed and gargled up blood as he collapsed. Hallas himself could no longer speak. As he slid down the wall, he left a streak of blood in his wake. He sat down now and gazed at the crib. He could see Inga moving. Her cries still rung through his head. They sounded so beautiful in that moment. They were proof that she still lived. Knowing he had won, Hallas smiled widely and shut his eyes. He felt the life leaving him now as his crimson blood continued to pour without fail. He could no longer feel the pain. He could no longer feel the aching of his heart.

In a dream, he saw Queen Ursa in front of him. She was smiling, and so he smiled back. Her hand beckoned him over into a pasture of green and gold. Here there was no sky, only a light of silver. Hallas's arms reached out for her.

"You need not fight anymore," said the Queen, "You fought bravely, my beloved soldier. Will you remain by my side forever?"

As she took him into her embrace, he whispered gently to her, "I will."

* * *

"Hallas…"

The queen held his broken body in her arms. Slashed open and torn apart, his flesh was soaked red like wine.

"Hallas…" cried out Ursa, "Forgive me. You saved her. You saved my Inga. To the very end, you were the finest guard I could have asked for."

But he would not answer her, and her words would not reach him. He had been dead for many hours. The Queen of Núrn then reached down. She shut her eyes as her silver tears streamed down so freely. Her lips pressed against his freckled cheek. She parted aside his curly, red locks and gazed at his corpse.

She said, "Who could have done this? Such evil…"

Talion strode in the room form behind and said, "We discovered a spy outside the wall."

The Bright Lord said, "Treachery. He spilled all when I took his mind. His comrades bore familiar names… those of Bruz's blood brothers."

Ursa said, "I do not think Bruz had anything to do with this. He was branded."

"I agree," said Celebrimbor, "We will hunt these usurpers down."

Talion said to her, "Ursa… stay with Inga, won't you? You need to mourn. I will handle this."

"Talion, I-"

"I will handle it," he said angrily. He cursed himself for his rage, and tried to soften his expression.

He said, "They tried to take Inga. I must do something. They must be brought to justice."

Ursa nodded and looked back down at Hallas. Her claws stroked his cheek now and she began to wipe away the blood on his face with her handkerchief. The ranger gazed one last time at the body of the young man. Behind him, Orison was slumped over in the corner, all the blood drained form his face. The ranger could not imagine the guilt he was feeling, but he didn't have time to. He had to find these assassins and kill them. Little did he know, they had not been far off until recently. The three Olog had gotten cold feet when they found the back entrance to the fortress had been sealed, and the front gate was closed and heavily guarded. With the Bright Lord's arrival, they had gone into hiding again. Of course, it was not as if they would have ever succeeded. It was a plan conceived by three fools, a plan ill-timed and poorly thought out.

* * *

As Bruz entered his grand fortress, he found Talion sitting upon the Overlord's throne, in a slump. Bruz felt a twinge of anger at the sight, but also a sense of dread. As he walked closer, he saw Talion's eyes were fixed on him, bearing a merciless gaze.

Bruz said, "Oh Bright Lord, I thought you'd be in your little enclave with the pup."

Talion said, "Tell me Olog… did you know your blood brothers were planning a coup?"

The Olog-Hai stopped. His face became frozen with fear and shock. He had not thought they would be so bold. He had hoped they would give up and run away into the deep forests outside Thaurband. He could not reconcile it all with the branding's effects. They muddied his own understanding.

He said, "What happened?"

"Your blood brothers sent an assassin to Amdir. They tried to take Inga! And as a result, my wife's beloved knight was slain! His death is on your hands! Because of your treachery, my daughter was nearly killed!"

Bruz bowed quickly, falling prostrate.

He said, "I… I did not know."

"Liar!" said Talion, "When I thought back on it, I remembered how you hesitated when you spoke to them. You lied to Ursa. You lied to her face. You knew they were here in the Carnán."

"I… I did. Had I told you, you would have killed them."

"I knew it." said Talion, "You withheld information from your commanders. You knew they were running around plotting our deaths."

"I thought they'd give up by now. They were never too bright."

The ranger said, "Bruz, I am willing to forgive this betrayal, but these Olog must be captured. They must be put to death for this evil."

Bruz said, "I… I understand. I never thought they'd go after a child. I can't think of any Olog that would. I see that I was wrong. Forgive me, Bright Lord."

Talion sighed and said, "I will forgive it. However, there is a condition. I want you to lead the hunt."

"What?" asked Bruz.

The Bright Lord now took illuminated form and said, "It makes perfect sense. You know their ways. You know their hunting routes and you know the paths of the island. None are more fit for this mission than you. You will track them down and execute them. Their deaths will serve as an example for all the traitors that hide in Núrn."

"I'm begging you," said Bruz as his face to tremble, "Anything but this. I know they must die, but I can't bear to be the one to do it."

"What?" asked Talion, "You are mine to command. You cannot disobey my order."

Bruz pleaded, "Please understand, my lord. Could you kill one of your fellow rangers?"

"It is not your place to ask such things," said Talion, "I gave you an order! You will kill these vermin and they will pay for trying to kidnap my daughter."

"I will not. Please forgive my disobedience. I cannot kill my family. I have known them since we were children."

The Bright Lord now appeared and said, "What insolence is this? You cannot defy me!"

Talion said, "It seems he has. I did not think any could resist once branded."

The Bright Lord said, "His will is as iron. We will need to brand him more thoroughly."

"Please…" said Bruz, "I will do anything else. Ask me to capture them alive. Have others execute them. It should be public, shouldn't it? Why send me to go kill them? What good would that do?"

Talion said, "There heads will suffice. Your disloyalty is the issue here. You said you were indebted to me, but you said nothing as traitors moved in the shadows. My daughter was nearly killed because of you and because of them."

"He is beyond reason," said the Bright Lord, "You must make him. He must understand what becomes of Orcs and Olog that do not fall in line."

"Very well then," said Talion.

He reached out his hand and gripped his fist.

He said, "Bruz, Overlord of Carnán… I command you to track down and kill your blood brothers!"

He sent out the order that burned at Bruz's mind, compelling him beyond all reason and love.

"No! Have mercy!"

"Bruz! Your lord commands you to track down and kill your blood brothers! You will obey!"

Again the order stung at him, dissolving his will and tying his mind in chains of light.

"Please… do not do this master! Pleeasasagghhh… It hurts!"

He knelt over and began to blubber. His head stung as if hot pokers ran through it.

"Bruz!" shouted Talion as he tightened his fist once more and sent out the cruel order.

"I order you to kill your blood brothers! You will serve your master!"

"I….AAAAGHHh…. aah… I… I will serve."

"Bruz! I order you to kill your blood brothers. Will you obey?"

"I will obey master," said Bruz, his voice now calm. His demeanor was serious as he showed his fangs. He seemed not to far from his self during battle.

He calmly answered, "Your orders are absolute. It'll be done."

"Very good," said Talion.

The Overlord now marched out of the throne room and went to assemble a hunting party. The ranger gazed at him as he left, as a torrent of emotions swarmed over him.

He said, "This could complicate things."

"Then it is best we snuffed it out," answered Celebrimbor.

"Even so," said Talion, "Did I act in haste? Perhaps I was too cruel. Ursa would have not allowed it."

"You did," began the Wraith, "what was necessary. If he had defied you, he would have only grown more and more disloyal as he broke free of the branding. Others might follow his example. This was necessary for the sake of keeping this army united. We cannot show weakness when we are on the cusp of victory. Talion, we are almost there."

"You are right," said the Ranger, "I cannot waver here when peace is nearly at hand."


	27. The Order and the Fall from Grace

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Unstoppable Order and the Fall from Grace**

Many years ago…

In a quaint hut, four Olog drank grog merrily and looked ahead to the promising future on the newly-conquered island.

Bruz spoke, "No buts about it. I'm going to be Overlord of this ant hill one day. Turn the island into a grand thing."

One of his blood brothers replied, "No doubt about it, mate."

"We'll support you to the end. One day, you'll be Overlord for sure. Bruz… don't forget about us when you do."

"You're bloody right, Gaz," said the green Olog, "And you'll be by my side as Warchiefs. All of you."

"Will hold you to that, Bruzey" said Daz from behind.

"Yeah, don't let all that power get to your head. You are a crazy fool sometimes."

Bruz chuckled and answered, "As if I'd forget. A blood brother never forgets."

* * *

One day after the assassins raided Amdir...

Orison looked down at the hill of soil in front of him. Upon it was a stone pillar with the name of Hallas, Son of Faramir. A simple grave as was custom for a ranger. No grand embalming or mountain tombs as was carved out for the kings. There was no family graveyard for him to be laid to rest in. His grave was by the sea, upon a cliffside where the waves would dash upon. Forever, would his grave gaze out upon the sea of silver. Forever, would the winds of the west blow upon him.

The old ranger's callused fingers brush against the cold stone. Orison's hand froze and pressed upon it, as if he were listening for a heartbeat or the whisper of a familiar voice. Behind him, the Queen stood in a black dress, with an ebony veil over her face. She remained silent as her father mourned.

Orison said, "I always thought I would die in a glorious battle against the Orc. That he would succeed me, to take my place as the ranger of Núrn."

He gulped down and said, "I should have been there."

Ursa said, "The fault was mine. I thought the island would be safe. I should have sent more guards. I missed something. I should have caught wind of their plans."

"The fault lies with the master," said her father, "As it should."

He turned towards Ursa and said, "He loved you until the very end. Until his dying breath, he fought for that love."

Her golden eye shut as the black locks of her hair obscured the daughter from sight, acting as her true veil as her heart bled.

She whispered, "Please… please do not say anymore."

He heard her voice waver as she remained behind him, gazing out to the silver, bleak sea. At last, she began to sob, unable to hold back the pain. She had lost so much in a single moment. Hallas, Ivorwen, and Madargon… three lights that would never return to her. All she could do for them was to set lights in in their honor.

* * *

Bruz marched through a long stone path. Here the vines and trees grew close so that his broad shoulders scraped and rubbed against them. Behind him, three Olog, along with a set of hunters followed closely. The hunters rode atop Caragor that sniffed the air for the reek of the enemy. However, the Overlord did not seek their assistance in this hunt. He was following an old path. He remembered it well. It led to a well-weathered hideout. When they were young, they would often come here to hide from their angry captain. They would store kegs of grog and salted meat. It was a place to rest and be merry as they spoke of foolish jokes and dreams of rising in the ranks. Bruz had not visited since the day his dream became true. After becoming Warchief, he abandoned such things, and put his blood brothers to work under him. He had promised them that he would make them fine Warchiefs one day. That all of the island would become their domain.

Up ahead, the Overlord saw the old hut, mud and twigs set upon great stone foundations. It was well-tended to. He knew that Daz was responsible, having loved it more than the others. Fresh grass and branches were laid upon the thatch, with green buds freshly sprouted. As he saw the sign of recent visitors, he felt his heart skip a beat. He wished he had be wrong, that they had gone elsewhere. Alas, it was not to be.

"Bruz" said the troll as he emerged from the hut. Behind him, two other large Olog arose.

"Gaz… you fool. You shouldn't have come here. Here of all places."

"This is our home, Bruz. Have you forgotten?"

"I have not! It's because I remember that I knew I'd find you lot here. It's just one mistake after another with you. You never could do anything right without me. You never would listen."

"Shut your trap, Bruz! What do you know? You're still under the spell of the Bright Lord, of that man-swine! You forgot our promise, didn't you? That we'd all rule Núrn together."

Bruz said, "I haven't forgot a damn thing! I gave you a chance. I was Overlord. I had the power to make our dreams real! Instead, you hid away like cowards and stabbed me in the back."

Gaz replied, "You? Ha! Then tell me Bruz… Why are you here? To arrest me? I'll be executed. All of us will because you chose that human over your kin."

Bruz said, "Why'd you try to take the little one? You don't hurt pups. That's the Olog code."

"What choice did I have?" said Gaz, "That Witch slew thousands of our brothers. She and that Tark are planning to betray our master."

"We are our own masters!" said Bruz, "Not that Dark Lord hiding in his tower."

"Listen to yourself, Bruz," stated Gaz, "Don't you hear yourself? You are bound to a master. He sent you here to kill us, didn't he? And the worst part is you can't say no. You won't even try to. You don't' love us no more."

"Baz… Gaz… Daz… I…"

"You don't even have the power to resist, do you?"

"I…"

"Bruz, I'm sorry, but I won't let him use you anymore. I'll set you free now, brother."

Gaz and his kin pulled out their clubs and axes. They began to march forward for their blood brother, hearts turned to iron.

Daz said, "Sorry Bruzey"

Bruz's party now formed beside him and drew their own weapons. The Caragor riders began to circle the enemy as they pulled out venom-laced pikes.

The Overlord stretched out his arm to the side and said, "Stand back! I'll do it. They're my blood brothers."

As he said it, a single tear trickled down Bruz' eye.

He opened his jaws wide and bore his fangs, teeth of such size that could tear through the flesh of a Caragor's armored hide. Out came a roar that would break the spirits of all. His blood brothers immediately froze in their tracks. His goblins froze in fear as they felt his rage and fury. Bruz stormed forward and knocked apart the wall of Olog. His brothers came upon each side of him and swung down. The Overlord grabbed one by the face and slammed him onto the ground. As he did, he ducked below the swing of another's club. He swiftly spun around and swatted his blood brother with the back of his palm. His club came down upon the Olog's shoulder. Suddenly, Gaz reached out for his stomach, tackling him. He charged forward and slammed the war troll into the trunk of a great tree. He sent a knee into Bruz's stomach to crack open his ribs. Bruz took in the blow and swung down his elbow into the troll's head. Gaz collapsed onto the ground. Meanwhile, one of his blood brothers plucked out another tree, snapping its tendrils. The great roots were torn free of the soil as he pulled it backwards. Daz spun it forward to knock the Overlord off his feet. Bruz let it hit his stomach and reached over it. He tore it free from Daz's grasp and threw it the ground. He lunged forward at Daz and swung a fist. His brother swung back and they exchanged a series of vicious blows, each one battering and bruising the other's flesh.

From behind, Baz grabbed hold of Bruz, securing him under his arms. Daz grabbed his club and prepared to bash in his brother's head. Bruz kicked forward and knocked him off his feet. He then broke free and elbowed Baz in the gut. He sent a blow like a wild bull that sent the other Olog onto his back. Bruz now reached over for his spiked mace. He grabbed hold of it and strode over to his recovering blood brothers. Just as he swung it down, Gaz managed to block the blow with his club. Bruz used all of his strength to knock it to the side and deliver a crushing blow upon his foe. The Olog fell over dead as the other came upon him. He swung his rusted axe down on the Overlord. As he did, Bruz launched forward and grabbed him by the wrist. He swung the back of his mace into the Olog's eye. As Daz roared in pain, Bruz flipped over the weapon and bashed it through him.

From behind, he heard the last of his brothers begin to rise. Still dazed, Gaz grabbed hold of his weapon. He stared at the two bloody carcasses before him. His mouth opened wide in horror. He bore his teeth and scowled at the Overlord. He snapped his jaws and charged him head on. Bruz swung his mace onto his cleaver and sent sparks lighting through the air. The mighty Overlord's swings came down like a mountain, pushing back his blood brother with each strike. He broke open his hand and then swung it upon his knee cap. Gaz wailed in agony as he collapsed onto his knees. As he clutched his hand, he looked up at his old friend.

"Bruz… Sorry…"

Bruz's mouth began to tremble. At last, he regained himself and grit his teeth. He swung down and executed the last of the saboteurs. The Overlord began to pant. As he gazed down at his feet, he saw the bloody remains of his deed, of his master's unbreakable order. In his head, he heard a promise from long ago. It was shattered forever, along with his precious bonds.

The Overlord collapsed onto his knees. He pulled up the corpse of his dead comrade, broken open by his own weapon. He blubbered against the broken corpse of Gaz, begging for him to wake up. But he would not stir.

"Why?" asked Bruz, "Why did it come to this? I didn't want this."

* * *

"Ursa…"

A beautiful voice was beckoning to her.

"Ursa…"

He called for her yet again. A dark voice she knew well. She was afraid that if she answered him, he would take her away. Yet she knew he was with her always, calling her away from the light and into the nightmare. Haunting her like memories of painful days.

At last, she answered, "Please leave me in peace."

"Your heart is heavy with sorrow and doubt," said the voice, "Loneliness is now your companion. You are beginning to understand, aren't you? That you are truly alone."

"I am not alone," said Ursa, "Not anymore."

"Then why are you here?"

"I do not know," she answered.

"I do," he said, "You are here because you suffer. You are here because they are leaving you. Because as your victory draws nigh, you begin to understand you have no place in this new age. Your dreams have no place in this world of light."

She answered, "I will not fall into darkness. I have resisted your grasp all this time. My love will anchor me in the light, and keep my heart from your despair."

"You will not fall? You will not know despair? Your life is claimed by despair and my dear…"

As if next to her ear, he whispered his weighted words.

He uttered softly, "You fell long ago."

Ursa awoke now, screaming as she did. She clutched at her heart as it tried to burst out of her chest. She felt as if she had been drifting into death. A cold, horrid voice had called to her. One as enticing as it was horrific. A voice she had dreaded hearing again. It had been so long since he haunted her dreams. No, was this simply the first time she remembered? How long had that voice been there, whispering to her?

The Overlord gazed towards the light in her window. However, Ursa could not feel nor see it. It had abandoned her. Her eye slowly turned forward towards the rustling at her feet. In the crib ahead of her, she saw Inga tossing and turning. The Overlord let out a deep sigh. Her breathing became calmer and she began to breathe more softly now. However, she dared not fall asleep lest his voice be heard again. She slipped out of bed and moved over towards Inga's pen. Inga's arms were on the bars, trying to climb out from her prison. She was stronger now. Able to crawl about and roll tirelessly. Soon she would take her first steps. Her mother reached down and picked her up into her arms. She lifted her up so she could admire her more closely. Ursa marveled at the child that seemed so incredibly light and fragile.

"You are fragile… as I am. You must be strong and courageous until the day comes when you are strong. No… you should take your time growing up, Inga. Mother and Father will create a world where the weaklings are allowed, and can find their strength in their own time. A world for the strong and the weak alike. I will make a new world for you, Inga."

* * *

Talion remained seated on the Overlord's grand throne. He shut his eyes as he considered the logistics of the army. It was not his forte, but he would need to do so while Ursa was in mourning. In seven days' time, the army needed to be ready to march before Sauron had time to recover. They would need enough food and supplies for a journey of many months. He would need to find a way contact Eltariel as well. No doubt Nazgul would be watching over Sauron's abode. A path would be needed to water the army as they went. As he considered it, Talion felt a great weight upon his chest. He knew that he could not endure much more this. War tasted bitter and time was too gracious to it.

The Gravewalker looked up ahead and saw his Overlord returning through the gates. Talion swiftly stood up and Celebrimbor took form beside him. The Elf scrutinized the Olog closely. He then let out a satisfied smile.

Celebrimbor said, "It is done."

Talion walked up to the Olog and said, "Your report?"

"They are all dead."

Celebrimbor commanded, "Show me their heads."

The Overlord turned around to point tout a small wagon being brought in from the front doors. He walked up to it, searching for proof of this victory. A great veil was poured out over the wagon. As it drew close to the throne, he pulled off the curtain. There lay the three heads of his blood brothers.

The Bright Lord said, "Well done. Take them to the front walls and set them on display. We will give a speech to the ranks. Let them know what becomes of traitors and conspirators."

Talion said wearily, "Is this not enough?"

"No," said the Bright Lord, "An example must be made."

The Overlord nodded and said, "Right. Hey you lot! Muster the legion. I've got a speech to give."

* * *

On the balcony of his grand fortress, Bruz stood proudly with his master taking center stage.

He said to the Bright Lord, "You go first my lord."

Celebrimbor spoke out, "Here are those that sought to assassinate the child of your Queen! They were without shame. These cowards thought themselves exempt from the laws of this land and safe from my reach! Any that feel as they do, that aspire to slay their masters, step forward now and join them in ruin!"

He looked down at the legions before him. They said nothing, remaining in organized rows as he had willed. Compared to the aimless swarms that usually gathered for such speeches, this army was now well-disciplined and ready for war. The Bright Lord could not help but smile at the sight of it. His hour was at hand.

He said, "No one? It is as I thought. You are proud, strong, and loyal! The greatest army in Mordor! Nay! In Middle Earth! Whom do you serve?"

A deep voice whispered in his hear, "Not you, Tark."

The voice of the War Troll resonated through the ranger's ears. Talion and the Bright Lord turned at once. Bruz had plunged a sword into Talion's throat, splitting it open. The ranger gasped for a second, still in shock from what had been done. He gazed down at the blade as his blood gushed out into a stream.

Celebrimbor said, "You wretched beast!"

Bruz said, "I trusted you! You made me kill my blood brothers! You made me a slave. Well, I'm not yours to command anymore. Now, this island is mine."

He let out a roar and kicked the ranger off of the balcony, sending his corpse plummeting down into the army below. Bruz pulled out his weapon and bellowed victoriously. His Orcs looked up in disbelief at the sight of their Bright Lord slain by his lieutenant, upon seeing the branding broken so utterly. Their loyalties were to be tested as the usurper made his plot known. As the eve of victory drew near, Talion's world began to unravel.


	28. The Trail and the Fate Worse than Death

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Trail of the Dead and the Fate Worse Than Death**

It seemed while Bruz was a competent commander, he failed to understand the specifics of usurping. He seemed to believe that having slain the immortal Bright Lord, the Warchiefs would fall in line, as would their underlings. In this, he was quite mistaken. All officers on the Island of Carnán had been branded and so they would not betray Talion. The day of his supposed coronation, the Warchiefs, already present in the fortress, drove off the Overlord. He now went into hiding in the forests, somehow avoiding being spotted by one of Talion's many scouts. The Ranger suspected his knowledge of the old island trails and caverns was responsible.

* * *

The Ranger gazed intently upon the corpse before him. Tied to a tree was a grey-skinned goblin. Her head remained slumped over and her blood had spilled out over her torso. Her captor had tied her to a tree and slit open her throat many hours ago. Tied to her body was piece of rope and hanging from this rope was a wooden sign. Upon it was written a message.

 _Your captain is not here. Come to the caves in Wolf's Hollow._

Talion scowled as he read Bruz' message. The dead goblin had been one of the caretakers of Amdir. The enclave was well-guarded right now with a legion protecting it. However, this she-Orc had been visiting her tribe when she was snatched. Likely, Bruz had interrogated her for information on the enclave's weaknesses. That was what Talion thought. In the end, the traitor used her as bait for his message.

"How awful," said Ursa as she gazed at the goblin.

"I cannot believe Bruz would do such a terrible thing," said the lady Overlord.

Talion said, "He was the Chopper, a brute who killed for pleasure."

She replied, "He reveled in warfare, not murdering the weak. He has fallen into despair and madness."

The ranger said, "Breaking free of the branding must have taken its toll. He now seeks revenge."

Ursa tightened her lips. While she did not dislike the thought of Bruz being free, she could not fault Talion for being angry. She too could not forgive Bruz for slaying her precious underlings nor backstabbing her beloved husband. She knew this could not continue or more innocents would die. Bruz's rampage had to come to an end and quickly.

She said, "I will return to the enclave and watch over Inga personally."

"Good," said Talion, "I will rescue our captain and put an end to this."

Ursa said, "If possible, please capture him alive. If not, then make his death painless."

Before Talion could answer, Celebrimbor appeared beside them and said, "Come. Let us deal with this matter swiftly. Ursa, return now to Amdir and wait for our coming."

Ursa bowed briskly to him and then turned her steed around. Her horse whinnied as it took off down the dusty road. Behind her, her many retainers flocked closely. Talion swiftly turned to face the Wraith. He gazed at him with scrutiny.

"What are your intentions, Celebrimbor?"

"The situation is dire," said Celebrimbor, "Most dire."

"I did not know you cared so much for our Orcs."

"Do not jest with me Talion!" he said as his voice became frantic.

The Ranger's mouth parted as he saw the Wraith's disposition. He had never seen him so unnerved. He did not fully understand why. In truth, with the ring of power, Celebrimbor had become utterly confident of his victory. It had all seemed so certain. Every gamble would pay off. Every victory yielded a bountiful reward. His power had been absolute. With a single betrayal, it was all cast into doubt. Before him, Celebrimbror saw his army turn into dust and his power reduced to ashes. The thought now consumed his mind, plaguing him terribly. His mind became bent upon reclaiming that which was lost. Order was needed to sate this chaos.

The Bright Lord said, "What he has done threatens to undue all we have accomplished. If one Olog can betray us, then they all can. It seemed the branding was not as perfect as we thought. Their ties to their kin and the way they are treated can influence their loyalty. An iron will can ensure they resist and break the chains I place upon them. Our army may fall apart before it ever reaches Barad-dûr."

Talion asked, "Do you truly think the other goblins and Olog can achieve what he did?"

"I think that his betrayal invites dangerous thoughts. It plants them in the minds of our army. If we cannot control this chaos, our forces will collapse. We must find Bruz at once and punish him. He must be made an example before all of the Orc."

"A public execution?" asked Talion.

"No," said the Bright Lord as his voice became emotionless.

Talion suddenly felt something he had not before in his presence. Fear. The Elf's voice, as cold as it was, was also laced with venom. Talion began to become aware of his disposition, of an aspect that had not bothered him until now. They had always been allies, Talion and Celebrimbor, brothers in arms facing the army of Mordor. They often quarreled, but never did Talion wonder about the contents of the Bright Lord's heart. He was not heroic in the least, but he was on the side of goodness. Wasn't that what mattered the most?

Celebrimbor said, "Executions are common place. The Orc must realize that death is preferable to what awaits traitors."

The Ranger said, "What do you propose then?"

"A branding that will shatter him. Do you remember what we inflicted upon Belos?"

"I do. Although I wish I didn't."

"Do not regret it. That monster deserved it. In that moment, you understood exactly what was to be done for the sake of justice. Right now, we must stay strong. If our Overlord hold a grudge over slaying traitors, how many will turn on us when they realize they are to face the Dark Lord of Mordor? When they stand before the dark tower, his legions, and his abominations, they will flee. We must purge these thoughts. They must fear us."

"Fear?" asked Talion, "You are beginning to sound like a Nazgul."

"It was fear that drove away our enemies as they stormed the walls of Minas Ithil. Do not forget you chose to employ weapons of the enemy for the sake of protecting your people. You must put aside the virtues of a ranger a little longer. Girt yourself, Talion. The war's end is upon us. Bruz's doom will ensure no more need to be punished and no more will desert us."

Talion said, "Ursa… she wouldn't want this."

"Ursa will understand," said the Bright Lord, "Once she is Queen of all of Mordor, she will understand. Now, Talion… do what must be done. If you waiver now, all will be lost. Ursa… Inga… Lithariel… the people of this land. Of Minas Tirith. All will be lost if Sauron endures this."

"He will not," said Talion, "His fate will be decided shortly."

The Wraith asked, "And what of those who would betray us? What of those whom would side with him?"

"That…I cannot allow. These Orcs must learn their place."

Talion stretched out his hand. From the clearing up ahead, a branded Warg appeared. A pure white breed, she was a wolf in her prime, one that few but her mate could overcome. The ranger strode forward and rubbed the side of her mane. He swiftly lifted his leg up over her back and sat upon her saddle. On his command, the wolf followed the road ahead towards the mountain.

From behind a set of bushes, a small blue Orc appeared. It was Ursa's servant Rag'luf who had accompanied her there. He had not followed her closely upon her return. Something about how Talion and the Bright Lord were acting had worried him. Talion's eyes had always seemed attuned with Ursa's. Their goals had aligned, and any rifts were met with compromise. Yet in that moment, the Ranger and the Wraith seemed different. Rag'luf now understood why. He looked fearfully at his masters as they left. He pulled out his pony from a veil of shrubs, and mounted it. He rode swiftly to catch up with his master and to tell her what he had learned.

* * *

At the green-laden stone mountain on the west of the island was a set of caverns. They led into the mountain, deep into a series of tunnels. Here, Orcs often kept their stash of loot and treasure. Built into it were wooden beams that held up the walls lest the cave were to tremble and collapse. Right now, the many torches that kept Wolf's Hollow alit were extinguished. The caverns were quiet.

Talion stared forward into the cave. He sighed at Bruz's foolishness. He should have better understood the Bright Lord's power before declaring him his enemy. He called upon the power of the Wraith and strode inside. Even in the pitch darkness, all shone brightly. All was laid bare before the piercing light of the netherworld. Talion could see guards up head. The ranger doubted they were his own. In any case, he would not take any chances. He swiftly crept upon them and gutted them in the silent gulf. As he traversed forward through the passage, his eyes watched closely. Up ahead, he saw another goblin. It was one of his captains tied to a post. Slivers of flesh had been sliced off of him over the last several hours. Now much of his chest muscles had been carved off, as had the skin on his upper arms. Talion felt a bit of pity for this Orc. He had been a loyal captain and that had gotten him punished. Bruz was punishing those loyal to him. If he escaped, he would come for Rag'luf, for Ursa's maids, for his wife, and for Inga. For the sake of revenge, Bruz would continue to fall into depravity.

Talion fired up an arrow at a stone pillar and slew one of the guards atop it. He appeared before the corpse of the archer. Looking down from the peak, he saw Bruz in the distance, surrounded by a group of Olog. Even with his ring, Talion knew this would be a difficult fight. Bruz had slain his blood brothers all by himself. Now the Ranger faced the war troll, along with his group of his lackeys.

The Ranger exhaled and prepared an arrow. He appeared by the post of the prisoner. He drew out his dagger silently and cut apart the rope.

He whispered to the captain, "Get out of here. Tell the others to storm in."

Suddenly, he saw the battered edge of an axe upon his temples. Talion ducked low as it whirled over him and bounced off of the wall of the cave. He swiftly pulled out his arrow and stood ahead of the captain.

"Go now!" said the ranger, "The way is clear."

"Thank you, my lord," said the Orc gratefully.

Talion glared, as the compliment left his emotions in turmoil. After all this time, he didn't have his answer. He had promised Ursa to help create a better world for the Orc, and he had come to see them as creatures worth pitying. Yet he could not reconcile it with the image of their evil and the knowledge of what they had done. His conscious had remained clear as he stripped them of their will. Why then did such a compliment sting now? The Bright Lord had warned him of such weakness.

"There you are, Bright Lord," said Bruz up ahead, "Thought you could go sneaking about, eh? Well, I had my eyes on him the whole time. I know how slippery you can be."

The Ranger said, "It's over Bruz. My ranks have surrounded the mountain. There's no way out. You sealed your doom by coming here."

Bruz said, "As if you'd know these passages better than me. I think there's a few ways you might have missed. You always were arrogant. You looked down on me because I wasn't a fair-skinned rat like you. Well, I'm not your slave anymore. I'll never submit to the likes of you again!"

Celebrimbor said, "You should have obeyed me. You would have been Overlord over many kingdoms. Instead, you sided with traitors. You stabbed me in the back even after I gave you everything."

"No…" said Bruz, "You took it everything from me."

He sent out a deep howl that resonated through the cave. The Ranger felt a chill run down his body, but he held his ground. Bruz and his cronies now charged him head on. Talion drew out the ring and summoned a wave of frost and ice. His Olog became trapped by the ice as it tied about them. As for their leader, the war troll swung his mace and battered the ice crystals into pieces. He kicked free his legs and swung hard at Talion. The Ranger fired up an arrow onto the roof of the cave. He appeared over the Olog's back and plunged downward. His blade stabbed into the back of the Chopper. Bruz swiftly fumbled backwards and rammed his back into the wall of the cave. Talion lept up onto his head and swung down again. Right then, Bruz sent out a long slender sword into the air. Talion's legs swiftly kicked off of the troll's shoulders and dismounted. As he peered forward, he saw Bruz was holding a mace in one hand and a long sword in the other.

Talion now called up his ring. He sent up more ice at Bruz now. The troll battered it about and began to veer away to the side. As he circled Talion, he saw Talion continued to send out ice without fail. Now a solid wall of ice had formed between the ranger and the frozen pack of Olog. As they began to break out, it would serve to hinder the othersand give him a moment to face Bruz in single combat.

Bruz howled out again and steered forward. Like a battering ram, he collided into the wall of the cave and sent a thousand cracks along its breadth. The Ranger had rolled to the side, noting that Bruz seemed faster than when last they fought. He needed to end this battle quickly or a single mistake would cost him dearly. Up ahead, he heard his army approaching. However, he did not wish for them to interfere. As he had ordered, they were simply to watch and ensure no enemies escaped. They would witness this victory and report it to their Warchiefs.

The Olog-hai flung wildly, sending his mace lashing through the air. Talion could not block such blows so he rolled about and fired off an arrow. He would reappear close to the troll and slash at his legs. However, Bruz continued to react instantly to the ranger's teleportation. As the ranger appeared, already he bore down upon him. His mace came crashing down into the earth and broke it open. Talion now began to stride backwards with the ethereal glave in hand. As he wished, Celebrimbror now appeared beside him with his bow in hand. The Bright Lord began to fire off arrows as if he split into many archers. He appeared in one location with the arrow already drawn and firing, and then again in another. In a moment, Bruz was hit by a dozen arrows that stuck into his hide. As he fumbled backwards, Talion ran behind him and stabbed his glave into his back. The Elf Lord fired an arrow forward into his head. Bruz lost balance and fell upon the glave. As he growled in pain, he swung around wildly, forcing Talion to retreat. He suddenly grabbed hold of a loose piece of stone and tossed it at the Wraith, still firing off arrows into his flesh. Celebrimbor was throw into the wall of the cave as the rubble reached him. The phantom stumbled onto the ground and in groaned in pain. IN that very moment, Talion began to march forward, without sword or dragger drawn.

Bruz bore his teeth as he saw the strange display. He then dropped his own weapon and waltzed forward. They would end this as brawlers… or so it seemed. He kicked down at Talion's position, cracking open the earth. The ranger drew out the glave and slashed down. It vanished instantly as it sent a deep cut through Bruz' exposed stomach. As Bruz sent a wild fist forward, he saw the ring beginning to glow again. Talion swung at the Olog's belly, sending out a shockwave of power. The Olog was knocked backwards. The Ranger dashed into his defenses once more, setting off all of his magic. Caught in the center of the explosion, it crushed the troll's ribs and knocked him backwards into the cave's wall. As he fell into a daze, the ring oppressed him again, smashing him against the stone. This time, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto all fours. He then looked up at Talion whose broken blade was upon his throat. The dagger held him there as the Bright Lord took form.

"Please… Kill me" said Bruz, "End it. I have nothing left."

Celebrimbor said, "You are correct. You truly have nothing left."

"Then finish it! Kill me! I beg you."

"No," answered the Wraith.

The Bright Lord reached out and dug into his mind, splitting it apart and tearing it as he went. He ravaged his memories and will, severing it as he did. The memories of his brothers, of their love, became a bane of torment. His accomplishments and pride turned to shame. The Bright Lord's light burned through the darkness, leaving all in shambles. He twisted it and left only pain and the shame in his wake. Bruz cried out, howling as his mind was taken from him.

"What have you done to him?" asked Talion, "You did not simply destroy his mind. He suffers."

"I have given him a fate worse than death. It is not the first time we did so. The Orc pride themselves in their might and will, so I took his. Never again will they dare to betray us. It is over."

Talion gazed down at the once great Overlord. He was curled on his knees staring at the ground. Tears were pouring down his eyes as he wailed like a child. His words no longer had meaning.

The Ranger's eyes narrowed and he said, "I warned you, Bruz. You chose poorly."

"Talion?"

The Ranger's heart stopped. A voice he loved so dearly now utterly terrified him. As he slowly turned around, he could see her pale flesh. Before him was the last person he wanted to see in this moment of darkness. Her eye was frozen in horror and disbelief. By her side was her servant Rag'luf. Just as the branding was complete, she had reached them.

She asked, "What have you done?"

"What was needed. I ended his rampage and quelled a rebellion."

Bruz now said, "I don't want it! I don't want the fort! I never wanted the fort! I never wanted the throne! Gaz? Is that you? Where are you Gaz? Gaz?"

He began to blubber now. His words soon became broken Black Speech as he called for his blood brothers. Ursa heard it clearly now. She turned to Talion and the Bright Lord and her expression became one of utter terror.

The Queen spoke, "His mind has shattered. The Olog I knew is gone. Was death not cruel enough a fate for him?"

Talion said, "Ursa… please listen to me. We only did what was necessary."

"'What was necessary?'" she asked, "And in turn, what will you give up? Will you become as cruel as Sauron if it means victory?"

Talion said, "Do not compare me to him! I put down a monster. I protected you just as I always have. I will not let another like Belos take you."

"Belos?' she asked, "What does this have to do with Belos? Oh no… don't tell me you tortured him too? You said he lost his mind in battle! Talion, how could you be so cruel?"

The Bright Lord said, "That's enough. You taint our victory, Ursa. I will not have your objections spreading about the ranks today."

"Celebrimbor?" she asked, "It was you who convinced him to do this, wasn't it?"

"I made your husband see reason. I had hoped you would as well. Ursa, you are a kindhearted woman, but kindness will not save Middle Earth. Only an iron fist can do that."

Ursa said, "You could have simply executed him. I will end his suffering now."

"You will not!" said the Bright Lord, "He must live as an example for all Orcs to see. Not just for the coming battle, but for the conquered kingdom."

Talion said, "Celebrimbor, wait…"

Ursa froze in her steps.

She said, "I understand now. I suppose I always did. What a fool I have been. I see now that there is no place for the Orcs… for me… in your perfect kingdom."

Celebrimbor said, "You are mistaken. You are to be the queen of this new age. What I said to you, what I have always promised, remains true."

She said, "You truly do not see this as evil, do you? You mistake cruelty for justice. In earnest, you have no qualms turning an Olog into a mindless shell."

Celebrimbror said nothing.

She implored them, "Please listen to reason… Both of you. You have done something unspeakable. Something so evil, that I have not seen done in Mordor. A deed no better than when Sauron took the wills of men and made them into his servants."

Talion said, "Bruz was a brute and a murderer. Do not compare him to kings of Gondor!"

"Because they were your kings? Because they were not Orc?"

The Ranger said nothing.

"Please," said Ursa, "Turn away from this path. You must promise never to do such a deed as this again. You must swear it on your ring! You must swear it on your life and mine, Talion!"

Celebrimbor said, "I can make no such promise. The future remains uncertain."

Talion said, "Ursa… he is right. I do not wish to use this power again, but I cannot promise that in the future, another Bruz… another Belos won't appear. They must be punished. For the sake of peace, this must continue. Why can't you see that? You knew the branding must be done, but the mind of a single Olog is worth everything to you?"

"It is…" she said.

Talion glared at her and tightened his lips.

The Bright Lord said, "This conversation is over. We will speak of it later."

"We will speak of it now," said Ursa, "I see now that I have been a fool. Had I made you see the plight of my people, you would never have inflicted such evil upon them. But you are right to call me a hypocrite. I allowed thousands to be enslaved, to die for our cause. I am truly, utterly despicable."

She placed a hand to her face as it all fell apart before her. As she succumbed to an understanding of what awaited, as all of her ill-deeds were laid bare before her. A weight bore down upon her shoulders and crushed her.

She then gasped and said, "What have I done? I doomed my race to slavery. Their lives rest on those bearing grudges."

"Ursa… please… I'm losing you," said Talion, "Don't let the Dark Lord whisper such thoughts in your head. We are merely doing as what we have always done. This is the only road to peace! Can you not see that!"

He roared at her in anger now. Ursa retracted in fear slightly as he did. Talion's eyes widened now as he realized what he had done and how she felt about him.

She said, "There are other roads we might take. Once Mordor is conquered, we could free them all. You could so easily promise to put aside that power, but you will not. Because in the end, you judge me as all the others. Even if you love me, you don't love the Orc in me. To you, the Orc are simply weapons to be used and tossed aside. Objects of your hate unworthy of redemption. Were your promises of reforming them untrue, Talion?"

"No…" he said.

"Then will you free my Orc when the war is won?"

Talion said nothing.

"I see… Farewell, Talion. Farewell, Celebrimbor."

Ursa turned away and said, "Have your war then. I will remain in Amdir with our child. If you seek forgiveness Talion, then I will have you. Until then, it is best we remain apart."

"U… Ursa… please… please don't do this. I can't… I can't live without you."

"If to save my people," she said, "Then I will give up what I love most. I will save you from this darkness in your heart."

He said, "You cannot do this. You cannot just abandon me after everything we've been through. Does it mean nothing to you Ursa?"

"You know the answer to that." she said, "Farewell."

Ursa climbed atop her horse, sinking into the saddle.

"Ursa…" he uttered.

Her horse rode off amidst the ranks and vanished into the blinding light of the passageway as she made her way back to the surface.

Talion's eyes were brimming with tears as he watched her leave.

"Ursa!"

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Writing this chapter broke my heart.


	29. The Failing Bond and the Black Captain

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Failing Bond and the Black Captain**

Talion's faces was fresh with tears, and left with a broken heart. Just as he had shattered hers, she had shattered his in return. He felt as if a nightmare had fallen over him. Even if with all the horrors he faced, there was a solace in knowing he was loved and that she was by his side. However, all that seemed to change in a moment. A single decision of his, of the Elf's coaxing, destroyed that. A single choice of her own severed it. He continued to gaze forward down the road. In his mind, he could still see her leaving him behind.

"What have I done, Celebrimbor?" he asked.

The Bright Lord said, "I… I did not expect her to turn away from this path. This is Sauron's doing. Talion… we must brand her."

The ranger glared furiously at him and said, "It's that sort of thinking that tore us apart. I will not brand my own wife!"

"Then you must convince her to return. We need her for the battle that is to come."

"Celebrimbor… I'm losing her. I must go to her."

"Then do so. Our army cannot delay much longer."

* * *

In her bedchambers, Ursa sat in silence and in grave spirits. She no longer tended to the duties of the Overlord. She fed and cleaned Inga, but no more than that. Right now, her mind was elsewhere. It was in the past. It was in the future. She was reconsidering all she had done. She thought of how she had sold out her people for a chance to gain prestige in Mordor. She thought of how she had let Talion brand her Uruk, of the thousands that were freshly massacred for following unbreakable orders. In her heart, Ursa still felt Sauron must be overthrown. However, another evil was growing in her mind.

The Overlord looked up as she heard the bedroom door slide open. She heard the hard-hitting boots of her ranger striding in slowly. She looked up to see him standing there. Ursa said nothing as she watched him, and Talion could not hide the discomfort on his face. The ranger took a deep breath and stepped forward. He sat down beside her. Ursa did not respond to him, and so he felt as if a wall had grown between him. He feared she would not let him touch nor speak to her. Even so, Talion gentle placed his hands on her shoulder. She did not resist. Ursa allowed him to wrap his arms around her. The Gravewalker pulled her in close and Ursa's talons pressed against his chest as they embraced. The ranger felt some relief. He was sure she would cast him out of the room. He then turned her chin towards him and pressed his lips against hers. Ursa closed her eyes and savored the kiss they shared.

As they pulled away, Talion then dared to speak.

"Ursa… I am sorry."

She asked, "Then will you turn away from this path?"

Talion said, "You know that I cannot. It is too late. We must finish what we started."

"Then I will remain here in Núrn," she said, "And await your return. I cannot watch as my race is doomed."

"Ursa, it is not as if the Orcs will be slaughtered. Peace draws near, you will see."

"Sauron would call it peace to enslave your people and end war forever."

Talion felt her word sting at him and tried to quell the anger he felt at the comparison.

She said, "I am sorry too. I know the Orc did terrible things to you. It is the same for my father. I just wish… you could see them as I see them as I do… that you could feel as I feel."

He said, "I… will try."

Ursa said, "I fear you will not. Talion, is Celebrimbor here?"

"No, he waits outside the estate."

"Then listen closely. He thinks only of his ring and his victory. Power has twisted his mind. I fear many more will be given the fate of Bruz and that the peace we seek will not come."

"I can't believe that," said Talion, "I will not. Not when we have the chance to overthrow darkness forever."

"If you truly will not, then my hope has left me. Now, you should go."

"So then you will not join us? We have need of your power."

Ursa shook her head and said, "You know that I cannot."

"Very well then," he said.

Talion gently kissed her on her cheek. As he began to leave the room, Ursa's eyes filled with worry and anxiousness.

She said, "Talion… I love you. No matter what becomes of us, please know that that is true. I have loved you always."

"I know," he said, "I love you too."

Ursa gulped as she heard the door shut. She tried to think of Talion's love, hoping it would rescue her from the darkness and hopelessness she was shrouded in. Those words of his, the touch of his flesh, and the kindness he gifted upon her… they were like a warm cloak. However, something began to burn a hole through it. A fire without equal.

From her side, Ursa saw a figure of gold. An Elf of seductive beauty that she knew well. He stood before her in the guise of Annatar the Deceiver. She had seen him clearly only once, yet he had haunted her always.

"Lord Sauron," said Ursa, "In my weakness, do you seek to turn me?"

"I already told you," he said, "You will come to me willingly."

How many days had he whispered into her ear? Was it her heart that was beginning to succumb or his corruption eating at her? Was she simply swayed of her own accord? Talion would never know. Although he was thinking of her always, he and the Bright Lord began to pull in his armies and reorganize them for the march ahead. All the while, Ursa remained locked inside her chambers and never once did she come out.

* * *

In the dark of night, the same voice continued to whisper to her.

"I told you," he crooned, "that in place of myself, another mighty lord would arise. He could not forget the power he once wielded, knowing that Middle Earth was his for taking. Even then, he was deceived by his own greed. You now perceive the truth, knowing the Bright Lord's victory will be the doom of all."

Ursa said, "In place of you? You who slaughtered so many in Minas Ithil?"

"In the heat of war, soldiers lose all restraint. I gave no such order nor did my lieutenants," he said, " Can the same be said of Celebrimbor? He could have simply executed the traitor, but he wanted revenge. The thought of losing power frightened him and so he punished your friend in the cruelest of ways. Even my Nazgul do not live such a tortured existence. His deed was one so cruel it never entered my mind. In your heart, you now have begun to realize that the Bright Lord is your true enemy."

Ursa said, "Your words are laced with lies."

"I have never once lied to you," he said, "A world of order is all I seek, one that will never decay."

"I will not let that world come to pass," she said, "One where the race of men are made into slaves while you rule alone."

He said, "Then you will side with the Elf lord? One who hates the Orc and sees them as evil needing to be purged? When Mordor is taken, he will turn his gaze to the free lands of Middle Earth and add them to his kingdom of light. Then, when he has collected them, he will have no more need of the Orc. Do you think he will show mercy to beings born of darkness? To Celebrimbor, they are a blight upon his perfect world. In the kingdom of the Bright Lord, there is no future for the Orc."

Ursa's eyes widened as she heard him utter the words. As her greatest fears were realized.

She then asked, "You are but his will manifested. I must speak with your true self."

"In time" said Sauron, "For now, this will do."

She said, "Can you seal him away? Strip him from Talion? I must know."

"I will seal him in Barad-dûr. The Power of an Elf with a ring of war cannot compare to that of a Maiar, even deprived of my former glory."

Ursa said, "In turn for my service, you will seal him. You will save Talion."

Sauron answered, "So be it. His ring will be mine, but I will grant a new ring to sustain him. You may oversee its creation."

Ursa then said, "You will not touch the Island of Carnán nor Amdir. My daughter is not yours nor is Talion. Both may remain on the island, forever isolated from this war, never to leave it."

He said, "And what will you become daughter of Orc and Man?"

"As for me," said Ursa, "I will do your bidding Sauron, Dark Lord of Middle Earth."

"Then you shall become my Black Captain," he said, "Savior of Mordor."

"If I sense deception," she said, "I will consume myself in fire. Amdir is already safe. You have no power over me yet. And I will not betray my beloved until I reach Barad-dûr when I have seen you have the power to forge new rings of purity."

She then asked, "How will I find you?"

He answered her, "Ride to the mines of Tamon Angren."

"I see. The second home of the machine tribe," said Ursa, "I will bring them the cannon as an offering."

Sauron then said, "It is time… for all to be decided."

* * *

Talion flew back to the Island of Carnán, riding upon his winged mount. Although it delayed the journey, he needed to see Ursa one more time. He could not march into Mordor until he saw her face one last time, and the face of his beloved daughter. The ranger brushed the horn of his drake as they approached the island.

"You have served me well," said the ranger to Atanáro.

In that moment, he wished Ursa were riding with him. They should have been preparing for this together as they always did. It was as if his strength had been halved, as if his heart had been split in two.

"How did it come to this?" he wondered aloud.

* * *

Ursa held her daughter tightly in her arms. At her feet, was a pack of rations.

She looked at Inga, focusing on her brown eyes. Her short black locks shimmered in the moonlight. Already, Ursa could see she would be beautiful as she grew. She would have her father's strengths and her mother's mind. Their courage and love would entwine within her.

Ursa said, "One day, I hope one day you can forgive me. Mother loves you Inga. I wish I could have been with you a little longer."

"Ma…"

The Overlord's eye widened and she let out a gasp. Her mind was left in shock, as the pains of a mother overwhelmed her. Her heart ached so terribly as her beautiful future was shattered.

"Mmmmm-AA. Ma. Ma. Ma"

Ursa pressed Inga close to her now. She held her in her arms as the cold moon poured in through the window. She listened to her child's gentle breaths, her broken words, and her heartbeat. Truly she was grateful to hear it again, to be reminded that she was no stranger to her daughter. However, it also pained her, driving a nail of guilt through her heart. She would give her kingdom to be with her, to be the mother she wished to be. However, the world was not so fair. Ursa placed her baby back into the bed. Her nurses would care for her, as would Lithariel. As midnight arrived, the Overlord knew it was time for them to part ways.

* * *

Talion walked into the bedroom. He called out to his wife as he looked around. Inga was in her crib and her nurse was sleeping in a cot upon the floor. Talion walked up to the nurse and looked down at her in confusion.

He said, "Wake up."

The nurse shrieked and pulled herself up, the blankets clung tightly to her.

Talion asked, "Where is Ursa?"

"My lord Talion?," said the maiden with a swift bow, "She has gone to Fort Morn to clear her head. She left a letter. She said none but you were to open it."

The ranger said, "Light a candle. At once!"

He ran over to the bed and grabbed the piece of sealed up parchment. Indeed, the Overlord's ring was branded upon the red wax of the envelope. He slid his knife through it and tore out the letter. Upon it, he saw her intentions and pleadings for forgiveness. The ranger collapsed onto his knees in despair. At his side, appeared the illuminated spirit of the Wraith.

He asked, "She has… betrayed us?"

Talion said, "Impossible. She would not abandon us to side with the Dark Lord. This must be a trick. Send out our wolves to track down her scent. She could not have gone far."

"My lord," said the maiden, "You have been away for many days."

The ranger then said, "She's gone. She's truly gone?"

The Wraith said, "Then we must march at once. Rally the army and head towards Barad-dûr. She will be there I am sure. Remember the words of the Black Hand. Sauron has coveted her for years. He will make her a Black Captain and send her against us. That is his way."

Talion said, "I cannot fight Ursa. Anyone but her!"

The Bright Lord replied, "Sauron is wagering much on that sentiment. Her fire will consume our army. We must face her, if simply to defeat her."

"Save Ursa?" said Talion, "Yes! We will defeat Sauron and break his hold over her. Then… then things can be as they were."

"Indeed," said the Bright Lord with a smile, "Now let us call upon the Blade of Galadriel. We will need her aid if we are to rise victorious."

* * *

Tamon Angren was not a remarkable fortress. It was small, with not enough Orc for the Bright Lord to bother conquering. Even so, Ursa had studied it closely in the past. Its mines were filled with ore that was shipped up to Gorgoroth for the mills, along with other materials such as coal. While the machine tribe's home was in Gorgoroth, its Warchief rested in Tamon Angren. As it was, he held no claim to the fortresses of Gorgoroth. After a month of riding, Ursa at last reached the realm of the mines. With her, she brought the cannon of fire that Sauron sought. It had been dismantled for the sake of travel, but she knew how to repair it. With it, the Warchief would have Sauron's favor and trust. The Warchief would bring her to Barad-dûr to show his winnings to his master.

* * *

Talion sat on the empty throne of Fort Morn. His eyes had become stern and focused. Right now, his heart was brooding as he felt something seething below the surface. A blade wedged through his heart both by his lover and his own cruelty, a deep wound that ached and bled out slowly. His army was nearly prepared for battle. The army at Thaurband that had fled had been recalled. Only a few hundred Orc would be left in Núrn, although a few legions held the fortress in the north. If they failed, Sauron would be victorious. Even so, The Bright Lord's army outnumbered his. He could only call upon the fledglings from the goblin city and the black army that was camped outside of Barad-dûr. Even without Ursa, this would be their victory. The true danger was the Nazgul, the troll king, and the Dark Lord that watched closely over his domain.

From the front door, the ranger saw a slim figure walk in.

"I must say," she said happily, "It's much cozier than I expected of an Orc's abode. I did not think you had an eye for decorating."

"You received my message," said Talion.

"Of course," she said, "Given everyone in Mordor knows of your victory and that you sent dozens of scouts looking for me… my arrival was inevitable."

Talion said, "My army awaits. Seven thousand strong, and another thousand called in from my domains."

Eltariel said, "Even if we win, the Witch King still holds many legions in Minas Morgul. Sauron might send for him."

The ranger said, "Shelob's brood watch over it. My forces in Cirith Ungol and Gorgoroth have orders to intercept him and fight to the death if he empties out the city."

The Elf maiden responded, "Ah, here I thought the Bright Lord and Ursa were the strategists of this army, but war has made you into a commander."

Talion said, "I do what is needed. Now listen closely. I am sure the Nazgul have been summoned to Mordor."

Eltariel said, "Save the Witch King and the one sent to Moria… You are correct. Sauron has called the seven."

"Then it will be decided," said Talion, "In grand battle. Come. We ride to war."

* * *

In the center of Mordor, the spirit of Sauron dwelled, cursing all around him. His dark tower had been destroyed long ago, but its foundations of Adamant had endured. Now he began construction on its great spire, one that stood tall above all of Mordor. Nowhere in Middle Earth, not even the great spire of Minas Morgul, could compare. From such heights, he gazed down upon his dominion, plotting and gathering his strength. His dark servants stood atop the tower around his form. In the center of their ring stood the ancient one, a presence that could not be eradicated from the world. His Nazgul, his mouth and messenger, and other unsavory agents awaited his words. A cloud of darkness dwelled here, slowly taking the form of a man. The darkness gathered together until it was replaced by gold and light. A deception of beauty and allure. In place of a shadow, stood the Elf of golden-hair and fair complexion. Annatar the Deceiver appeared before them to greet their newest champion.

Ursa strode forward and bowed prostrate at his feet.

"Rise," he said softly, "Ursa of Fire. My Black Captain."

"I am yours to command," she said.

Annatar's hands came down upon her chin as he gazed down upon her. In his eyes, she saw the same fire that smoldered within her own. Although she feared him greatly, Ursa could not deny a sense of kindred. Here in his presence, she did not feel cursed.

The Black Captain now said, "I only ask you show me the ring I will give to my betrothed."

He said, "Without Celebrimbor, no great rings are possible. Even so, I have the power to forge lesser rings. With these, I created my new Nazgul, weaker but deadly in unison."

"There are others beside the Nine?"

"Two. The daughters of Khand will be yours to command when the time is come. Now, let us a craft the ring of the New Age."

* * *

Within the Fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord forged a new ring of power. A ring formed without malice and poison. Like the Bright Lord's, it was a pure thing in its own, twisted way. Like those Celebrimbor forged for the Elves, it gave power and long, lasting life. Once it was forged, Ursa slipped it on. It had not the power to overthrow him or be used against him, but she did not feel any darkness from it. In that moment, Ursa was truly surprised. True, she knew that it might simply be a deception, as he had some influence over her. However, as she wore it, it seemed beautiful to her. She then wondered why the Dark Lord chose corruption and darkness when he had the power to wield light as Celebrimbor did. Was it good will that sent him on such a dark path? What of his prior goodness remained? Or was his desire for order simply derived from selfishness and a lust for power? She could not see nor fathom the depths of the ancient one.

Annatar now spoke to her and said, "For you, I will forge no ring. A staff of power like the wizards wield should suffice."

And so they returned to Barad-dûr. He clothed her in fine black raiment and robes. A black hood and mask she wore over her face, leaving her long hair free to flow out the front. A long ebony cape draped down her back and shoulders. Pieces of light armor and metal gauntlets clasped to her arms and legs. A black tunic covered her waste and torso. Atop the metal glove he had crafted personally for her was a jewel carved into a red eye. Along with the raiment of a black captain, he gifted her with a staff of power. Compared to the staves of the Istari, it was but a pale imitation. Fragile, it could be shattered by more than the will of a grand wizard. Weak, it could not draw out the purest form of magic as the true staves. However, Sauron knew much of the Istari and had begun to forge twisted weapons. Some the Nazgul had granted to Overlords, but none were as great this. With their rings, the Nazgul had no need of such a thing and the sons of Sauron perished before their creation. These staffs would go to what remained of his sons and daughters. The Mouth of Sauron and Ursa of Fire would be wielders of the lesser staffs. Now she held in her hands an obsidian staff, light but sturdy. Atop it was black twisted blades that entwined as they grew. In the center was a glass-like twisting flame that held an ancient jewel. The longer she held it, the more it became a part of her and called out the inferno within.

* * *

Atop Barad-dûr, Ursa remained with her master. In the tower of darkness, she felt it engulfing her. Even so, she still thought of Talion and Inga. As she gazed into the eye-shaped jewel on her gauntlet, she saw a reflection in its polished form. A frightening figure of a new Black Captain stood before her. Her appearance was hidden behind black raiment and cursed armor. In that moment, she had never been more powerful, but in that moment, she had never felt more alone. She feared he would look into her mind and realize the truth. The Dark Lord was no fool, and so, she had uttered many truths to earn his trust. It was true that she had betrayed Celebrimbor and sought to overthrow him. However, she had no intention of allowing either Dark Lord to have their way.

Once the Bright Lord was sealed and severed from her husband, Talion would still have the power of the new ring. She would wield the power of fire, her magic doubled by the staff he gifted her. Together, they would banish Sauron from Barad-dûr. Even if Celebrimbor was released, he would be without a host. The bright ring would sustain him, but he could not enter a new host without a blood ritual. She would then fly by Fell Beast to Mount Doom and destroy the Bright Lord's ring, leaving Talion alive with the pure ring she had forged. With Sauron banished and the Bright Lord dead, Middle Earth would be safe. Her Orcs would be free and without a dark commander to muster them for war. It would take Sauron centuries to recover, and decades to gather more legions. Talion and Ursa could return to Amdir and live out the rest of their life with Inga or seek a new path of peace for both races. If they wished, Barad-dûr could become their new capital.

Ursa knew her plan was dangerous and bore great risk. If they were unable to defeat Sauron, a horrible fate might befall them and the ring would fall into his hands. There was the possibility that the new ring meant for Talion was not what it seemed and that the Dark Lord could seek to control Talion through its grasp. But she knew no other way. With all her power, Carnán was not a master of spells that could capture the Bright Lord. There were many wizards in Middle Earth, but all were thousands of leagues away from them. The only one who could defeat Celebrimbor's might was his equal and greater. If all else failed, at least the Bright Lord would be defeated, and Sauron left crippled from their previous victories for decades. Yet for all her planning, Ursa did not perceive that she may have already fallen in her own way. She did not consider that in that moment, her mind was truly aligned with his own… for she too was the great deceiver.


	30. The War for Barad-dûr and the Dead King

**Chapter Thirty: The War for Barad-dûr and the King of Gondor**

"The Ring misseth, maybe, the heat of Sauron's hand, which was black and yet burned like fire, and so Gil-galad was destroyed; and maybe were the gold made hot again, the writing would be refreshed. But for my part I will risk no hurt to this thing: of all the works of Sauron the only fair. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain."- _Isildur, King of Gondor, in the year 3017_

* * *

"It is nearly time, the hour where all will be decided," said the Dark One.

His voice made the Black Captain shutter, draining all life from her veins. And yet his voice was not a terrible thing in all ways. It was commanding and soothing. Ursa's golden eye gazed down at the battle below as Barad-dûr was raided by a massive army. By her ranger. Dressed in black robes and a staff of terrible power, she had been anointed as Sauron's chosen elite. The power he had granted her so many years ago, that she had used so readily against him, had come to serve him at last. And yet, Ursa hid away her purity from him, her goodness and craftiness. She wondered if the all-seeing one would know of her lie, if he would see through the ruse. But what Ursa herself could not see was how at home she seemed beside him, in the land of darkness. Here was the one place in the world her Orc blood, her half-breed nature, was welcome. Even in with the Orc she had not belonged but Sauron welcomed the twisted, the different, and any that would serve him. The only condition of his love was that they serve him well and embrace shadow.

As the battle intensified, Ursa's eyes flicked with excitement. It was then that she recalled that there was one other place her half-breed nature did not matter. It was by Talion's side. Her beloved was nearly here. No matter what, she would have him again, something both she and Sauron were certain of.

* * *

Talion collapsed onto the ground. His wrist was trembling, and he was long out of breath. Beside him, Eltariel remained on her knees as she recovered her strength. About them, the bodies of Uruk were scattered. The Nazgul had been relentless. As they marched across the bridge to the dark fortress, the Ringwraith ambushed them there. However, with the ring of power and the light of Galadriel, they overcame them. Talion banished them from Barad-dûr for a time, sentencing them to the void. He now set up camp atop the bridge so that he and his Orc could recover their strength. Up ahead, the black army awaited.

Eltariel said, "One escaped. The crowned one."

Talion said, "He never intended to fight."

As he regained his former strength, he gazed out across the span in front of him. Barad-dûr's fortress was without compare. Although Mount Doom towered over it, it was the size of one of Mordor's lesser mountains. Even in its battered state, Barad-dûr had never ceased to be a symbol of doom, plaguing the Bright Lord's army with doubts. Grouped beneath the great tower were smaller spires, each fit to hold a king. The fortress stood on adamant foundations built upon an ancient mountain that endured the breath of time. Around it was a river of lava that never cooled, perhaps a curse created by the Dark Lord. It encircled the mountain as if a moat of fire. This left only the main bridge for invaders to traverse. Here atop the abridge, stood Sauron's remaining army. A thousand Orc known as the black army awaited them. Dressed in razor-sharp plated armor, these were Black Orc, the finest of any Uruk. Supporting these champions were other great Uruk bred and kept in Barad-dûr for his personal army. A hundred war trolls were also present. Leading the black army were two great commanders. One was the crowned Nazgul who resurrected souls of fallen heroes he had slain, as well as Orcs from ancient battles. The other was Az-Dem, the greatest of all Olog. He served the Witch King in the siege of Minas Ithil. His size was without compare. It was said that he slew a Graug with his bare hands. He wore an armored helmet forged with horns and spikes on every plate. In his hands was a grand sword that would split a horse in half. Joining the Legion of Darkness was two other legions of average goblins and smaller trolls.

As the crowned Nazgul gazed at the army camped upon the bridge, he said, "You have brought too few ranger, too few to challenge our master."

Az-Dem commanded his legions saying, "Seal the gate. None shall enter without my command."

* * *

Behind him, the gates of Mordor were closed as the last Orcs poured out onto the bridge. As only a single legion could fill the bridge at a time, the other ranks awaited their turn to fight should Az-Dem gave the order. Those exhausted or wounded would be traded out for fresh soldiers from the garrison and the gates would again close. And so the last battle of Mordor had arrived.

The Bright Lord stood atop the back of the bridge, on the opposing wall that surrounded Barad-dûr. He gazed down at his Uruk as they chanted his names. For all his hatred of them, he could not help but savor their loyalty and pride. Even with the branding, they feared and adored their Bright Lord. They would fight to the death for a chance at battle, or so he believed.

Celebrimbor called out, "Look before you. Look upon all that remains of Sauron's former power! We have stripped it of him! His dark lieutenants will be of no avail against the power of the Bright Lord. The black army will perish before the might of the white army of Mordor!"

Together, Talion and the Wraith cried, "Charge! Bring me a noble victory!"

The ranger now called down from the heavens his steed. The goblins looked up to the heavens in fear as they saw the beast only the Nazgul were permitted to ride. Atanáro reigned down fire upon the enemy ranks, consuming them in fire. As their arrows pierced its thick hide, he roared in pain and flew off again into the sky. With a spin of his mighty wings, the arrows loosened and snapped.

While the death toll it caused was great, the armored legions were not so easily scattered, their thick armor having saved them. They stood strong and marched forward. Talion sent out his Olog to break through the hundreds of shield-bearers that stood in his way. He now lept down into the battlefield, appearing in front of his army. He drew out his bow and fired it into the enemy ranks. Above their heads, the Bright Lord appeared with his banner in tow. It came crashing down and sent ice out across the bridge. His icicles began to skewer the enemy ranks. Talion weaved his way forward, knowing the enemy was too dangerous to stay in the midst of it for too long. He parried the strike of a great Uruk as he stepped backwards. The Uruk plunged his spear forward, trying to skewer Talion. The ranger twisted his neck to the side and avoided the spearhead. He swiftly launched forward and stuck the sword through the visor of the Uruk's helm. He tore out his blade and sliced open the Uruk's neck. From behind, the shield-bearers began to turn around to face him. He sent out yet more ice to freeze them in place. As he did, his fighting Olog-Hai broke through the box shields of the enemy. Suddenly, Az-Dem broke through Talion's own ranks and knocked the invaders off their feet like a great bull charging. His great sword swung as if it were weightless and slit open the throat of one of the Olog.

"Ranger!" he roared, "You stand in the fires of Mordor! Your ice will not save you here."

"We shall see," said Talion.

With his ring, he sent out a great blade of ice upon the Olog. Az-Dem's thick armor protected him, even as it bruised his chest. He bellowed out in fury and tore the blade of ice from the earth. Talion's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the ice shard fly through the air and impale upon him. At the last moment, he managed to fire of his arrow forward. He was knocked off his feet, not being properly footed for the landing. Talion swiftly returned to his feet. He spun his sword about him and parried the swings of the black Uruk before him. His sword cut them apart as he made for the war troll. Before him, Az-Dem was decimating the Bright Lord's army. He spun his sword like whirlwind, breaking through flesh and weak armor, felling dozens by the moment. Around him, many Olog were dead and Talion knew he could not afford to lose them here. The war troll's sword came crashing down upon him. Talon planted his feet to the side as their blades collided. He slid off the edge of the other sword to lessen the impact, lest his wrist be snapped in two. If not for it being the Elven blade of the netherworld, it would have surely shattered. Talion knew the next swing would surely break his legs so he began to roll about. He sent frost out upon the warlord to distract him as he slashed at openings in his armor. However, Az-Dem proved to be even faster than the slave-master of Thaurband. His wielded his sword with finesses that seemed unfitting for an Olog. Talion was forced to parry off of the strike so that his blade was not knocked out of his hands. As they dueled, the black troll kicked him in the stomach and sent him hurdling back across the bridge. As he fell, Talion fired off his arrow and appeared again before Az-Dem. He sent a shockwave towards the Olog which threw his underlings off their feet. The War troll shook his head as he was dazed for a moment and the ranger slashed at his exposed legs, cutting into his hide. Their battle would rage for a time.

* * *

At last, the black gates opened. What remained of the black army was sent fleeing. Az-Dem, for all his power, would not stay in a losing battle. He would run as he always did when his advantage was lost. Even more, he was simply too exhausted to continue fighting. He had personally slain at least two hundred Orcs and eight trolls even whilst dueling with Talion. The Bright Lord's ice had frozen too many great warriors and the drake had turned several hundred into ash. After several hours of battle, the black army had succumbed to exhaustion and found themselves splintered. Worse had been the trap Talion set. During the battle, he had branded many enemy Olog and even their War Grog. It was not until Az-Dem's tactics threatened to defeat the Bright Lord's victory that Talion sent the order to backstab the black army. In an instant, many officers had been slain. Against a superior force, Talion's army was destroyed with only the Warchief Zaxuleg, several captains, and a thousand Orc remaining. Still, he had managed to destroy what remained of Sauron's legions with his might and tactics.

As the battle neared its conclusion, both Talion and Az-Dem became angry at the absence of their allies. The Nazgul had not aided in the battle, and Eltariel would not come to his aid, believing an assassin had no place in armored battle. She watched from the bridge as the conflict swiftly erupted and ended. As for the crowned Wraith, he had been summoning fallen Orcs, an effort which proved futile. Alas, he was not interested in fleeing. Not this time.

* * *

From behind Talion, Eltariel strode forward.

She said, "I am impressed. Your skills have improved since last we met, to be able to survive Az-Dem's onslaught."

Talion said, "No thanks to you. I could have used your aid in that duel."

She said, "I am not immortal as you are. A single stray arrow could slay me. Besides, I've been watching the Nazgul. His treachery has failed and so, he will at last take the stage."

Zaxuleg asked the ranger, "Master, shall we march? The way is clear."

Talion said, "Yes. Prepare to advance."

Suddenly, a cold blade slid across the throat of the Warchief. The blade spun around and decapitated the head of a captain. Eltariel twisted her blade above her shoulders as she felt the Morgul blade slice down at her. She spun around and cut into the air as he vanished into smoke. She turned to see that Talion was panting. He would not be able to fight much longer. The duel with the Nazgul had already winded him and using the ring seemed to be having a toll on him. Even so, he centered his blade and placed his feet apart squarely. With a firm battle stance, he was prepared to duel with this deadly opponent for the final time. His eyes darted to the side as he saw his dead Warchief had sprung back to life, his head sliding back onto his neck. Around him, many corpses arose in turn.

Talion pressed the Even glave into the ground and encrusted the bridge in frost. The Orc corpses became entrenched in ice and struggled to move forward. From behind, the ranger felt the Elf press her back against Talion.

He heard her say, "I will aid you, Ranger."

The Nazgul's blade came slashing against Talion's own. He parried it and sent a deathblow at the Ringwraith. The Ringwraith knocked the blade to the side and cut straight down, hoping to cleave the ranger apart. Talion's swift feet moved him backwards as he returned his sword back into a defensive pose. As the Nazgul approached him, Eltariel appeared from the side. Her daggers danced beautifully, humming lightly as they cut through the air. Her blades sparked against his and sent small cuts through his raiment. The Ringwraith vanished as Talion's sword moved through him from behind. Eltariel now ran up close to Talion and pulled out the luminous vial. Even in the darkness of Mordor it seemed utterly perfect with neither blemish of ash nor a hint of shadow. Instead, it glistened lightly like a twinkling star. Suddenly, the soft light turned into a sun before them. It glowed warmly for them, engulfing them in a light the darkness could not pierce.

Eltariel said, "Stay within the light! Do not let the curse touch you!"

The Crowned Nazgul drew out his hands and sent out a storm of darkness. It hissed and screamed as the gale cut at the light, pouring over it like a flood. All outside of it fell dead, save for the Nazgul's puppets.

Talion said, "Such a deadly curse."

"He is drawing upon the living," said Eltariel, "To nourish his army."

A sickly dark green smoke mixed with shadows of the dead erupted from the bridge. Suddenly, the fallen Orcs stood tall once more, their eyes glowing a feint green. They now turned their blades towards the ranger and the Elf assassin. Eltariel snuffed out the light. While she wielded it, she could not be touched, but she could not fight properly either. The assassin put an arrow to her bow and began to slay the undead Uruk before her. The Nazgul launched forward now and slashed at Talion. The ranger's blade vibrated from the impact as he countered it. He sent a flurry forward at the crowned Nazgul. The Nazgul's blade collided with his as a shower of sparks burst forth. Talion's feet held firm even against the strength of the phantom.

The Nazgul spoke now saying, "This is your fate, ranger. The fate of all lords and kings. Rise now a Nazgul."

"I will rise," said Talion, "the conqueror of Mordor."

He tore apart he blades and swung into the chest of the Ringwraith. From behind, Eltariel leapt atop the Nazgul's head and wrapped her legs around him. She stabbed her daggers into his chest gain and again. The Nazgul roared and sent out another death curse. She dropped off of his back and managed to pull out the beloved star of Litharien before his curse could reach her. As for Talion he had vanished. The woman looked about in fear, knowing the curse had been sudden, a final effort that would have slain even the greatest of heroes. However, the ranger was no longer on the ground. A white arrow had reached high into the heaven's and summoned Talion into the air. With his bow already drawn downward, Talion fired it off again. The Nazgul was blinded in that moment by his own dark magic and as it ended, his opponent bore down upon him. In that moment, a glave plunged through his back. Talion's, with all his might, picked up his skewed opponent by his spear and nailed it into the ground. The banner cut deep into the king's ghostly form, and the ranger sent out a powerful shockwave to split the bridge. The army was blown off the bridge and plunged to their doom. The new ring was victorious.

As the glave vanished, the Nazgul collapsed onto his knees and screamed out at the victors. An empty, pathetic cry that could not reach those before him. A cry born out of hatred and frustration as he faced his doom. The ranger now stood over him and stretched out his hand.

The Bright Lord said, "Now take his mind."

Together, they plunged into the depths of his mind and wrapped it in chains of the damning light. The ranger now saw before him a memory of a grand king. One who had fought bravely in the last alliance of the world's ending. As all hope was lost, he had taken up his father's sword and smote down the Dark Lord in his moment of triumph. A king of all valor and glory, greatest of all thought the ranger. Yet he had failed to destroy the spirit of Sauron. The King of Gondor took the ring as his own, seeking to wield it. And so, it betrayed him in his time of need. In an ambush, the king hid from goblins by wearing it. It cloaked him from unwanted eyes only to slip off his finger. Now laid bare before his enemies, he was shot through with many arrows. The body of the fallen king was sent to Mordor. Here a new ring was granted to him, sentencing him to eternal torment for his greed. The splendor of the King Isildur turned into a blight, a cursed existence as a puppet of the Dark Lord, ever enslaving others with his same horror.

Talion's' heart was suddenly moved, and he felt great pity for the man before him. As he saw the one he so idolized, he also saw a reflection of himself. He saw the heart of a good man, fallen astray. No, he had been given a fate worse than death. All the tales of Isildur had never once supposed such a fate had befallen upon him. Only that he had been slain by Orcs and hos corpse lost to the ages.

 _It cannot be._

 _It cannot be._

 _The King of Gondor was not even granted the peace of death?_

 _He slew his own brothers?_

 _I cannot permit this._

But the Bright Lord would permit it.

"You are mine," he said proudly as he began to twist Isildur to his will, as Sauron's curse was replaced by another. However, as he did it, whatever fragment was left of Isildur rebelled. As Sauron's grip loosened, the dead king wished only for death. In a final act of defiance against both masters, he relinquished his ring of power. It slipped from his fingers and took its true power with it. The Bright Lord could easily rectify the situation, but this simple act would change the fate of Middle Earth.

Talion said, "No… I cannot. Find peace in death."

With the ring in hand, he plunged his sword through the mask of the Nazgul and released his new servant. Slain at last, Isildur's soul could go to the hall of his forefathers. The Ranger gazed now as the darkness of the enemy's hood shown with light, as the shrunken corpse within turned into the face of a proud, handsome king. The king said nothing, only shutting his eyes, as his spirit left the world of the living.

Celebrimbor spun around, his face seething with rage as he gazed upon the Gravewalker.

"He was not yours to free!"

"And he was not yours to enslave!"

"You have deprived us of a mighty servant."

"We have no need of any dark servants. The time of Mordor is at an end."

"The war is not yet over, Talion. I thought you would have understood that by now."

From behind, Eltariel said softly, "You… You freed him from Sauron's hold. You dominated him."

"And I will dominate Sauron. His armies will be mine."

The ranger roared out, "Enough of your ambitions, Celebrimbor! I tire of them! We are meant to destroy Sauron!"

"Sauron cannot be destroyed!" said the Bright Lord, "Unless the One Ring is found, his soul will endure and he will return again and again. He must be made a servant… one bent to my will. In place of the ring of darkness, a new power is needed. In place of the Dark Lord, a new king must rise."

Talion turned to the Elf and said, "What say you, Eltariel? Would you have Sauron on a leash? Would you have the Nazgul become your comrades?"

"It is not about what I want," she said, "Celebrimbor is right. Darkness always returns. I… I fought this war alone for centuries. Never once could I truly slay the Nazgul and yet you have accomplished what I thought impossible. We… we can win."

As Talion looked upon her, her confident expression had vanished. In place, he saw a young Elf sent alone to Mordor with an impossible task, one not yet masked by bloodlust. A soul that had truly thought the war impossible. Now, she had hope.

The Bright Lord now said, "We must ensure Mordor becomes a place of light. All darkness must be purged from it."

"No… No!" said the ranger, "I will not trade one Dark Lord for another! This is not the end I fought for! I gave up everything for this path! I lost Ursa! I lost her. I did countless evil deeds in your name! Even as peace is made possible, can you not accept it? You would choose power over all? Over Middle Earth? Tell me Celebrimbror… how much of your soul did you pour into that ring?"

"It is pure, Talion," said the Wraith, "And my path has never changed. This is not about my petty revenge, nor yours. This is about restoring order to Mordor… to all of Middle Earth."

Eltariel said, "Talion… we are so close to victory. We can end this. You cannot turn aside this power! It is your duty to defeat Sauron and slay the Nazgul!"

Talion said, "A Dark Lord crippled in his fortress… and one marching to victory with a ring of power… Was this the choice that lay before Ursa?"

Celebrimbor said, "That's enough. You promised to stay true to the course… to do whatever was necessary to defeat evil once and for all. I will not turn aside the throne of Middle Earth, the chance to end this chaos and win the endless wheel of war. It is you who should be by my side. You are my brother Talion… no you are much more. Do not throw it all away out of fear."

He then stretched out his hand, hoping dearly the ranger would embrace it.

The ranger said, "I will not hand over Middle Earth to you so easily, Celebrimbor."

"Then… it seems our paths have truly separated."

He turned towards Eltariel and said, "Then one far stronger and wiser is needed. You understand what must be done, that the future I propose is one of light. Become my new vessel Eltariel and let us bring peace to Middle Earth."

Talion's eyes now filled with shock, but he said nothing.

Eltariel said, "I'm sorry, Talion… truly I am. But Sauron must be defeated. I must complete my mission. I cannot falter here."

"Then the pact is severed," said Celebrimbor, "And a blood sacrifice is before us. We will become as one. A far more fitting vessel for the Bright Lord."

The Bright Lord's hand swiftly moved forward. In an instant, he tore the ring from Talion's fingers. Talion could feel the spirit of the Elf leave him an in instant. He felt the life leave his veins. His legs lost all strength. From his throat, his old wounds began to open up. The slash of the Black Hand's blade returned and his blood spilled out. He clutched at his throat as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding. Eltariel looked away. A single tear trickled down her face. The ranger fell onto his back as he began to gargle up blood and choke on it. His breathing became shallow now. Celebrimbror shut his eyes and turned towards the road ahead.

He said, "Come. I cannot see this."

The ranger's blood continued to spill out as he took his last breaths. His thoughts turned to Celebrimbror and the friendship they had shared. His heart was now broken from the betrayal, shattered into pieces. One betrayal after another it seemed.

Talion thought now of Ursa. Through the pain of the betrayal, he felt remorse. He understood now that she had been right about the Bright Lord. Right about him. Even so, he wished she had stayed with him and changed their fate together. He wished he could have seen her and Inga one last time. He had dared to dream. Even as a corpse, he had dared to dream. A vision of Ursa in a blue dress in spring, standing in a cottage outside of Minas Tirith. In her arms was Idril, far more grown up. A world in which Middle Earth was saved. All those dreams seemed to wash away. He was left with only his failure.

His mind then wandered about to an ancient memory. He saw his beautiful wife speaking to him.

Ioreth said, "You will make a fine ranger my love."

"Do you really think so?" said Talion. In that moment, he felt the vines wrap around his heart again. Old memories weighed him down and stole the life from him.

He said, "I am a murderer by law, am I fit to be seen as a protector of the realm?"

Ioreth said, "You saved me from a wicked man. No matter what some judge may say, I know that to be true. Just as you protected me, so will you protect the people of this land. I believe you are fit to be a captain. Yes, I am certain that one day you will be captain of the guard."

"Me…. A captain?"

"Yes.. you will be a hero of Gondor. A guardian of Middle Earth."

"A hero…" he repeated.

* * *

Talion's heart would not beat much longer, but it was as if fresh air was entering his lungs, even for a second. He slowly twisted his head to the side where the ring of the Nazgul lay. As he gazed upon it, he knew then what he must do. Suddenly, he heard the scurrying of a thousand legs swarming about him. The horned Ungol now scurried closer, sent from Shelob to oversee his quest. One grabbed hold of the ring and pushed it up to his hand. She crawled up to his face and stared at him. The ranger thought she was familiar. Likely she was one of the offspring of Madargon, perhaps the new brood queen.

She whispered to him, "She asked you… how much would you sacrifice? Will you take it?"

The ranger took hold of the ring from the spider. He held it to his ring finger for a moment as he considered all. If he followed this path, there would be no turning back. He could never have a life with Ursa. If he went to Mordor, he might face defeat at the hands of the victor. So then he would have to abandon his own dreams… and abandon her. If the Bright Lord won, she would be slain. And if she won, he might never see her again. But he knew his battle was not Barad-dûr. It was between Mordor and Middle Earth. He needed to retake the foothold there. He needed Minas Morgul.

"Until…" he said as he faded into oblivion, "I take my last breath… my fate… will remain my own."

He slipped the cursed ring upon his fingers and it took hold of him. His veins filled with the enemy's venom and the color of his flesh left him. His eyes turned to a golden yellow, reflecting the serpent's iris of his new master. He had fallen the servant of the Wraith. He would rise as Nazgul. For the sake of Middle Earth, he would give up his happiness. He would give up Ursa, the love of his life. He would give up his sanctity as a ranger and become something even more accursed then the Gravewalker. This was the only path left to him. As he regained his footing, he saw his drake flying up to him. The ranger gazed sorrowfully back to the tower where Ursa and Sauron would soon be battling his traitorous allies. If he were to go to her aid, he would be caught in an onslaught with enemies on both sides. Their battle was his one chance to escape from here, to take Minas Morgul by surprise. As the ranger flew off on Atanáro, his heart grew heavy from all he had lost.

He whispered, "At least Inga will be safe."


	31. The Dark Lords and the Wrath of Ursa

**Chapter Thirty-One: The Battle atop Barad-dûr and the Wrath of Ursa of Fire**

Ursa sat panting on the ground. About her, the Nazgul's retracted their swords, signaling the end of the bout. They stood in a ring around the Black Captain, their swords now erect in a salute. They no longer moved, appearing as statues. The Black Captain pulled herself to her feet. She had dueled with them for weeks now, with little rest. All in preparation for the heroes' arrival. If she could not properly defend herself, she would be slain even with the fires of Mordor at her command. So, had her new master decreed. It was not as if Ursa had never tried to wield a weapon before. She had some experience with a sword, but it was always abysmal at best. With her weak muscles, she could not handle much more than daggers. She preferred to flee and dodge than to fight. However, those limitations no longer would hold her back. He had broken her free of them. Fighting such deadly lieutenants, Ursa had come to wield her rod with skill. No, it was not simply the training. The Dark Lord had planted such knowledge in her mind. She now needed to only practice it to make it a reality.

As the Nazgul departed, the Black Captain continued to gasp for air and sweat profusely. Her faced looked winded and drained. It was not training alone that degraded her so. Rather, Lord Sauron's presence itself that took its toll. While he had done her no ill as of late, Ursa could not help but fear him. She knew not what he was, only that the world had no counter for this ancient evil. He had no true form, that was certain. He took the form of Annatar before her, but she had once witnessed him before the illusion. A being of darkness she could not describe. His words were also of concern to her, and never was she sure of his meaning. He seemed to speak truly to her, but his lies were surely as beautiful as his truths. He was alluring yet more frightening than anything.

In his presence, she felt as if she were nothing. In his presence, the days were dark and confusing. She did not know if she wished to flee or to remain. For only in her presence, was her "curse" a beatitude and even if the Dark Lord was a mystery to her, the sharpness of his mind was welcoming in a way. Yet it was not peaceful to be close to him. Ursa would have to mask a part of her. The part that dearly missed Talion and Inga. The part that missed Celebrimbor. The feelings of guilt for abandoning Talion in his time of need, and the plotting to overthrow both Lords of Mordor. She knew she merely needed a moment of frailty and all of her cunning would be laid bare before the Dark Lord…. if he did not know already. He was kind to her, but she knew he was capable of great cruelty. The burdens of the world were weightless to him, yet he bore them with great understanding. Time was nothing, but no moment was wasted. He was the culmination of his sons and their power, virtues, and vices. Yet he seemed far more balanced in all these things then they were. The perfect being. And in its own way, that made him fascinating to her, and yet, all the more terrifying. Alas, she would remain in his presence, sustained and defiled by it as she looked to the horizon, to the ending of the age.

* * *

A month later in the Invasion of Barad-dûr…

Atop the tower, amidst the black clouds of Mordor, the Black Captain awaited her ranger. Her golden eye remained eagerly on the horizon as she looked for his coming. Even with the Nazgul sent upon him, she knew he would survive, that he would certainly reach her. The success of her plan drew near. In a moment, all would be decided. The Lords of Mordor would be overthrown, and she and her husband would both be free.

Below, the battle had ended. What remained of the victors would be marching across the pass. She knew Celebrimbor intended to claim Sauron's armies, but what armies remained? Both forces had been utterly decimated. Only the army in Minas Morgul and a few legions in Talion's fortresses remained. This war had cost much. In the end, her people had suffered above all others. The Orc had been utterly wiped out in this uprising. With the goblin cities, they would recover over the decades, but at the moment, both armies were crippled. However, Ursa did not dwell on her stirrings of guilt. She had experienced the weight of it before her departure from the Island of Carnán. It had sent her here. In this moment, her mind was completely transfixed on Talion and the destruction of the dark lords.

Before Ursa, the Bright Lord appeared and the Elf, Eltariel, scaled the tower. It seemed they did not intend to take their time properly conquering the inner-workings of Barad-dûr, where Sauron's Orcs had retreated to. They would not delay the final battle any longer. Here and now, all would be decided. For a moment, their was only silence. The invaders and the defenders gazed calmly at the other.

At last, the Bright Lord said, "Make your peace, Sauron. Mordor is mine."

Annatar coldly answered, "You have abandoned too much, Elf. Your final doom will be decided here."

Celebrimbor turned to Ursa and said, "Rejoin me, Ursa, and I will forgive this treachery."

She then said, "I would rather die than join you."

The weary wraith sighed and shut his eyes as he spoke, "So be it."

Ursa's eye now searched desperately for Talion. However, he was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if her lover was hiding, preparing an ambush to snatch her away or to assassinate Sauron. Or perhaps, he was simply lagging behind. Her sight fell upon the hand of the assassin that bore the silver ring. In that moment, she understood what had occurred. Her eye widened in horror as she realized what fate had befallen Talion. And the treachery of those before her.

"What have you done?" she asked.

Eltariel's eyes became grave as she stared at the Black Captain. In that moment, she had no answer to give her. Her own heart was still heavy from the loss, even if her mind was decided. When she stared at the half-Orc, she saw that Ursa's face was not that of a Black Captain, but of a wife learning of her husband's fate. Eltariel turned her gaze away, lest it weaken her resolve. She needed her nerve to last a little longer.

Ursa remained frozen as she shook her head, as she wished desperately for one of her former allies to deny it. But they would not. Her husband, on the precipice of victory, had been murdered. The love of her life was dead while she was away. At last, she accepted it. Her mind now fell into darkness and despair. In that darkness, she surrendered everything, feeling only malice and hatred. The inferno... the storm... all she had held back gave way. Sauron could not help but smile as he saw the Black Captain born before him into her perfect form. A form he had tasted when she first chose his power and her mind shifted for a time. Her fall into shadow was complete at last. Sauron's spirit took hold of her mind and heart, as she handed herself over willingly to power and despair. Inside her, the small kernel that had been smoldering now burst forth into an inferno. It would consume all.

The Dark Lord had won.

Ursa roared out, "You traitors!"

As she asked cursed them, Ursa sent her hellfire upon the pair. However, her attacks seemed more directed at Eltariel than her former companion. As the fire reached her, the assassin stretched out her hand, calling upon starlight to protect her. The flames roared and wrapped around the golden orb of light. The Elf gasped at the intensity of the fire, feeling as if she would catch fire amidst her own defenses. With her sharp eyes, Eltariel spied the stave in Ursa's hand.

Meanwhile, the Bright Lord fired an arrow and appeared before Sauron. In his form of Annatar, the Dark Lord wielded a Morgul blade. Sauron brought his sword up in a salute as his opponent bore down upon him. Their beautiful blades hummed as they cut through the air. Sauron's sword parried against the Bright Lord's stroke. Their swords collided and rolled off the other's edge. In this deadly dance, Ursa knew not who would be the victor. However, her attention was focused primarily on the woman before her.

The Black Captain spoke, "Your death will be slow, She-Elf! You will burn and rue before the end!"

Eltariel said, "Be silent servant of Sauron! You who betrayed the world!"

Ursa retaliated, "Spoken by the one who betrayed the hero of Middle Earth. Tell me… what words of comfort did you give Talion as you stabbed him in the back and left him to die on the foot of victory?"

"I have only done what was necessary!"

"You chose power over your comrades!" said Ursa, "Now die at the hands of true power. Burn along with the Bright Lord's legacy."

Eltariel began to swiftly fire off arrows of light at the half-Orc. Although she could not wield the powers Talion trained so often in, she was utterly adept in archery. Her arrows flew perfectly at the Black Captain's forehead, one after another, and without fail. However, Ursa shielded herself with a churning shield of fire. The arrows were thrown off course as they reached her. Suddenly, the Elf assassin was before her. With the Light of Galadriel in hand, she pushed her way through the flames. Her blades came towards Ursa's throat. The Black Captain drew out her staff and parried the strikes much to the assassin's surprise. She spun the stave about and moved backwards as she did. As she retreated, she sent torrent of flames forward. Eltariel danced away from the flames, firing off more arrows as she did. The Black Captain now a wave of fire upon her that was without end.

She said, "Your light cannot save you. The fires of Mordor consume all."

As she said it, the fire continued smother the Elf's shield. She felt the heat beginning to pour inside. With her free hand, Ursa unleashed a blast of fire at the Bright Lord as he was distracted in his own duel. With a warrior's reflexes, he summoned a shield of his own. Moonlight appeared to surround him. From within it, he drew out his bow and fired it at the Black Captain. In that same moment, the Elf Lord appeared before her. His sword slashed at her throat but she reeled low and her body twisted back to her feet. Ursa sent several swift blasts at him. He called upon ice to shield him from her magic. His frost now ran over the entirety of the tower's roof. However, Ursa's fire melted the ice as it reached her. It turned to steam at her feet as if her very body was aflame. Behind them, the assassin was dueling with Lord Sauron. His sword swiftly parried the flurry she was sending his way. She sent a kick up and knocked his sword hand to the side. As she did, she sent a deathblow for his throat. However, he vanished into a cloud of darkness and enveloped the area. The Elf's sharp eyes spied his sword slashing down at her from the side. She fell backwards, barely deflecting his swing. She had not expected him to reappear so soon. The Dark Lord now reached his hand upwards and was consumed in fire. It whirled around him and then flooded the roof of the tower. An inferno as powerful as the sea covered all in his midst. Ursa's flames protected her, and the Bright Lord called upon his light to save him. As for Eltariel, her own light protected her as the fires reached her.

"Cower before the power of the Galadrim!" shouted the maiden.

"Leave him to me" said Celebrimbor.

As he said it, the Elf assassin switched places with him. Celebrimbor returned his attention to Sauron. The air around them lit as Ursa's fires covered the rooftop entirely, churning it out like an eruption of the dark mountain. Embers and smoke billowed and rose as a terrible heat poured forth, enough to burn away an Orc that wandered too close. The two lords of Middle Earth continued to rage and bash against one another, looking for a single mistake to exploit. As they parried, the Elf Lord drew out the Glave and rammed it into Sauron's throat. Annatar sent a mad cut at Celebrimbor's chest and as he did, he took on the form of the Dark Lord. Dawning unbreakable plating, his colossal form waltzed quickly over to his opponent, and his morning star came crashing down into the black stone of the tower. As it collided, an explosion of fire was sent out. The Bright Lord summoned a shield of ice. It shattered instantly, and Sauron charged forward like a bull. Celebrimbror ducked below a swing that would have torn his body in half. He sent a torrent of ice up onto Sauron, sealing the cracks in his armor with frost. The Dark Lord's armor began to steam, melting the ice in his joints. As for the thick ice upon his feet, his might alone broke it apart and he did not hesitate to unleash another blow upon the Bright Lord. However, the moment he froze, Celebrimbor sent his glave forward and stabbed it into his chest armor. The banner dug hard and sent a wave of wind screaming through the air. The Dark Lord now stumbled backwards. He collapsed onto his knees in pain.

"You have grown powerful, Celebrimbor, to challenge me," said Sauron, "But in the end, your power is limited, and mine... is limitless."

"You are weak," said the Bright Lord, "Stretched too thin from granting it so frivolously to your underlings. Without your ring, what hope have you to rise against its equal?"

'"Equal?'"

Sauron let out a deep laugh that resonated through the tower until the very foundations of Barad-dûr trembled.

He uttered, "You never wielded One Ring, not as I had. You know nothing of true power."

As the two Lords dueled to the death, their servants prepared their own death blows. With her staff empowering her, Ursa flooded the tower with a sea of flames. However, it was meaningless against the Elf's defenses. And so Eltariel was dashing swiftly for Ursa while brandishing one of her blades. The Black Captain hissed as she realized her flames could not stave off the light of Galadriel. However, she immediately realized Eltariel's weakness, perhaps her only one. If she was not correct, it would be the end of her. Eltariel intended to slit her throat with her next move.

Eltariel pushed through the inferno, panting and charred, but ultimately unharmed. The flames about Ursa were expelled as the light consumed her. Ursa shut her eye in pain from the blinding beam as the assassin charged her. She brought her staff up to guard her throat and head. In that moment, Eltariel's blade slid into Ursa's stomach. The Black Captain roared in pain, but reached out with her hand. She held Eltariel's blade-wielding hand, leaving it rooted in her flesh. In that moment, an aura of fire wrapped around the Black Captain. She was burned by her own flames, as was the assassin. Eltariel swiftly released one of her weapons so she could grab hold of the light and extinguish them. Nevertheless, Ursa's eye gazed upon the Elf and wished dearly for her death. The Elf assassin's clothes now caught fire. She screamed out in pain and tried to grab hold of the light. Ursa summoned the flames about her together and created an orb. She sent the concentrated magic forward towards the writhing target. As it reached Eltariel, it erupted out into an inferno that blew the Elf off her feet. As she landed, the light of Galadriel was summoned. The fires were instantly put out. However, her body was covered in many burns.

Ursa smiled widely as she walked forward.

She said, "How does it feel to lose to one with Orc blood? Does it sting? I truly hope so."

As Eltariel returned to her feet, the Black Captain lunged forward. Her staff came down upon her head. She sent the edge of it cracking against her skull. Her hand then stepped upon the Elf's wrist so that she could not grab hold of the vile.

The Black Captain drew upon her fires once more. Her revenge was complete and so now Eltariel would die. From behind, Ursa's death appeared. She swiftly drew upon a shield of fire behind her as the Bright Lord's sword came down upon her. The fire blasted forward like a wave and consumed his position. He teleported through the blast and sent his sword forward at her throat. Her eye watched helplessly as it reached her. Suddenly, the hand of the Dark Lord grabbed hold of him. In his armored form, the giant took the Bright Lord by the throat and crashed him down into the earth. Ursa sent another swing of her stave and knocked out the Elf assassin. She then turned and sent a river of fire pouring onto the Bright Lord's body, burning his ethereal form dearly. Sauron swung down on him with his morning star and crushed his body. Celebrimbor cried out in pain as his body was broken.

The Dark Lord said, "You should not have abandoned the Ranger. That was a mistake."

Ursa now turned her attention to the unconscious Elf maiden. She pulled out a small dagger from her belt and knelt down. She grabbed hold of Eltariel's fingers and dug the sharp edge of the knife against her ring finger. She severed the bone and freed the blood-soaked ring from her grasp. Ursa now reached down and took hold of the ring of moonlight. She gazed up at it in wonder.

"This is our victory my lord."

"No… You will not take it from me! Not again!"

Celebrimbor roared and shook the foundations of Barad-dûr. Even without his ring, he still harnessed its power. He reached up for Sauron and attempted to brandish him. The Dark Lord's own hand now reached for his throat. As for Ursa, she had been knocked off her feet and the ring rolled to the edge of the tower. In that moment, the assassin's eyes opened up. She grabbed hold of the ring and the vial, and threw herself off of the spire. Ursa cursed at her and ran towards the edge. She sent a grand bolt of fire down below, not thinking of who might be caught in its path. Unsure if it had reached her, the Black Captain now turned around to see that the Bright Lord had been consumed within Sauron, or rather he had poured his entire self into the domination. However, Sauron could not be dominated even by a ring of such power. Even depleted of his former glory, he fought back against Celebrimbor and his ring. They entered a warring state, and the blue light of the Bright Lord became one with the Fires of Mordor. In place of Annatar and the armored one, she now saw a wreathing flame of a serpent's eye. Sauron's evil was revealed to all of Mordor, the ever-watching eye that had been guarding it so closely. Weakened, he would not leave his tower without the utmost need.

Ursa looked at Sauron in fear and confusion.

She asked him, "My lord, do you suffer?"

Sauron answered, "The ring maker cannot hope to defeat me. His fate will be sealed in time."

"Forgive me, master. I have failed you. The assassin escaped with the new ring."

The Dark Lord said, "Send forth the remaining Nazgul and all riders. Search all of Barad-dûr for the she-Elf."

"It will be done," said the Black Captain. As she bowed again, tears began to pour down her cheeks. Her heart was still heavy with despair as she remembered her beloved ranger and what ill fate had befallen him. She would hunt Eltariel with all hatred in the hopes of torturing her once again.

* * *

Eltariel clutched at her bleeding hand as she traversed the darkness of Barad-dûr. She could not stop moving for soon Sauron's forces would be upon her. The skies would become with hungry fell beasts. The ground would be swarming with goblins and Warg. She had to take the new ring and flee for a time. She wondered if she should take the new ring back to Galadriel and away from the reaches of Mordor. Or perhaps she should remain here in the desert. Even without the Wraith, she remained the owner of the ring. It would grant her great power.

For now, her body suffered, inflicted with great pain. Eltariel's flesh was burnt by the Black Captain's cruelty. Her ring-finger had been removed and her head was bleeding profusely. Even more, her heart was heavy. She had killed a good man for the sake of a swift victory. However, even with the new ring, they had failed. Mordor had been crippled, but this was not by her doing. The one responsible was no more.

"Talion…" she whispered.

She did not know that he was alive. Flying atop his drake, he rode now for Minas Morgul. Even without the branding, the beast had grown fond of him, and so it did not flee the battlefield. When Eltariel stumbled upon the bridge of the last battle, she would find no corpse there. She would be left to wonder what had become of it all and wallow in grief and doubt. They would not meet again.

* * *

As Talion fled Barad-dûr, he clutched at his chest. His eyes would return to look at the far off tower. He could never forgive himself for abandoning Ursa there, for abandoning their future. He knew that she might very well be slain by the Bright Lord and his assassin. However, his love alone was not justification for abandoning this path. No matter which lord won, Middle Earth's doom would be at hand. His duty was to take the foothold between the realms of Mordor and Gondor. He would guard the way to the bitter end.

"Ursa," he whsipered, "You asked me once to remember our moments together. To know that no matter what, you truly loved me. I wish now that I had answered in kind."

He pulled aside his long locks as the wind overcame him, as Atanáro relaxed his wings and drifted in the wind.

The ranger said to the wind, to the woman he could not reach, "Please know I feel the same. Know that I love you, even if our paths are split apart. Know how much I wish to rescue you from this fate. Yet I cannot go astray. Not anymore. All I can do is reach out and hope. You must not die, Ursa. You must live so that we can meet again."

"Even if that dream is no longer possible."

The ranger peered at his broken dagger as it lay in his hand, an ancient memory of a life that seemed from another world. In the reflection of the blade, he saw his glowing yellow eyes and pale skin. He knew what horrible fate would befall him in time. For now, his will alone would sustain him, fighting off the corruption that ran through his veins. He would not bend so easily to Sauron's malice. If he could not win, then he would give Middle Earth a fighting chance. He realized then that he was not the hero of this story. He was simply the one meant to make ready the way.

* * *

Around Barad-dûr, a flock of Fell Beast encircled as if buzzards gliding upon wind currents. Their leathery, worn wings were far larger than that of a drake. Their skin on the other hand was far thinner. Their jaws, each filled with a hundred needle-like teeth, were powerful, able to crush a horse as they closed. Far slenderer than a drake, these twisted wyverns could cross the span of Mordor in half the time. There was no creature in Middle Erath as fast as they, save for the Great Eagles.

One of the Fell Beast folded its wings for a moment and plummeted downward, aiming for the top of the tower. At the last moment, its wings spread open and sent forth a great wave of wind. As it sunk, its talons opened up at the last moment and scraped against the Adamant floor. The wyvern bleated like a great beast of burden and shook its head and throat. Its rider now dismounted. She strode forward and gazed at the fiery eye before her. With her hood and mask, her enemies could only see skin as white as death and an eye matching that of her master's. A ferocious sight that bore no recognition of the scared Orc hiding in Udûn. In her place, arose a Black Captain taken by heart, possessed by Sauron's indomitable will as the Hammer had been. She bowed at the feet of her master and then gazed up at his majesty.

Ursa said, "It has been many days, but the Elf eludes us. Forgive me for this failing."

"The hounds of Mordor will not relent."

She said, "Then I will rejoin them."

"No," he said, "I have another task for you. One in regards to the Ranger."

"Might I search for his body?" she asked, "If you give me this privilege, I will serve you in all things. I will forever be yours."

Sauron answered, "My servants found no body. Wounded and without horse, the Elf could not have taken his corpse with her. With the death of my Nazgul, the slain one's ring was to be recovered. It too has gone missing."

Ursa's eye widened and she asked, "Talion… is alive?"

"A drake was seen flying to the west."

A single tear of joy fell down her cheek as she rejoiced. She felt a great weight lifted off of her shoulders. Her dream was still yet possible. She now began to plot as was her nature. Ursa wondered why he would be flying away from the battle. Would he not come to save her from Celebrimbor, to rescue her from Sauron?

Ursa put her hand beneath her chin and spoke, "Minas Morgul… He intends to conquer it and hold it to his last breath. He would become a Nazgul and give up Inga, give up me… He would give up everything all for the sake of Middle Earth. He is even stronger than I imagined."

From the dark abyss within the pupil of the lidless eye, a black energy poured out. From plumes of smoke, she saw a man without a true form. Sauron's power was still too weak to appear before her as Annatar it seemed.

Ursa now looked up to her master and said, "What is your bidding my lord?"

"My Nazgul have been banished for a time. Take the Daughters of Khand in their place and fly to Minas Morgul. Aid the Witch King. Your ranger will be captured and his ring taken from him. You will oversee this task."

Ursa said, "So be it. I will grant him the new ring I forged for him and he shall live. Will you give me dominion over him?"

"He will be your prisoner to do as you see fit."

"Then in time, Talion will join us, as will Inga… I must retrieve her before Carnán awakens from her slumber."

"Go forth now. Minas Morgul must not be allowed to fall."

"The legacy of the Bright Lord and his uprising," said the Black Captain, "will end here. That I promise you."

With that, Ursa gave a wide grin. Her eye glimmered as she looked to a promising future.


	32. The Witch King's Palace and the Reunion

**Chapter Thirty-Two: The Palace of the Witch King and the Fated Reunion**

The ancient Elf awoke in anguish. In pain. To find himself in a battle of wills without end, clawing and biting for a victory far from sight. Around him, the fires of Mordor embraced him and burned at his spirit. Celebrimbor found himself bound in darkness, desperately seeking to escape and to bind his captor. A fruitless endeavor. His rage, will, and power fought as the Dark Lord slowly overtook him, as his mind grew tired. And then in the realization of his prison, Celebrimbor's mind turned to fear and terror.

 _Talion? Where is Talion?_

None answered him.

 _Ursa? Ursa, won't you come to save me?_

She would not. He had abandoned all for his victory. He was to fight alone in this battle of wills. To return to isolation just as he had wandered alone in those endless centuries before finding the Ranger. The ring of beauty was taken from him, and he had only the company of his regret. In his mind, he could not accept it. His victory had been at hand. To be denied on the cusp of victory, was no easy thing. No… Victory was at hand! The fault was not his. His chance would come again and when it did, he would take back his ring and rule Middle Earth. There was no one else but him that could.

And yet… he could only burn in silence. Sauron's will continued to crush him and although the Bright Lord could not be overthrown so easily, the dark one's will pressed down on him and in the gulf of time, this horror would torture the Wraith. It would eat at him until there was only a knowing of his weakness. He would whisper a name in the dark. He would dream about his other life, of the wife and child he lost. Of Talion and of Ursa. Where had they gone? Why had they left him here to suffer? In the end, he could not escape the blindness of his own pride and need to be made whole. He never could realize a ring of power would take him only further from that good end. And so he battled on in a prison of fire in a veil of shadow.

* * *

Ursa stood atop Barad-dûr, beside her new master. She had grown accustomed to his presence, even as he drained her. As she looked up to his incomprehensible form and power, she wondered and despaired.

Annatar said in Black Speech, "It is nearly over. Soon you will have your ranger, and I will have this world."

Ursa said in the same tongue, "It was inevitable. Always I knew, it would end this way. That darkness would reign and reshape all things."

The Dark Lord asked, "Can you imagine it, my Black Captain? A world without decay, and death, and suffering? A world brought to order?"

"I cannot," she said, "Yet… I would like to see it."

"You shall. I promise you," he said to his beloved servant.

* * *

As Ursa flew over the scape of Mordor, the Dark Lord's promises resonated through her mind. A fire now burned through her but her mind was still sharp as ever. Forced to subdue Celebrimbor with raw power, Sauron would be far weaker. It was left to the Black Captains, the Nazgul, and the Mouth of Sauron to do his bidding while he recovered. She would make a world of order and peace, and burn away the vileness of the old world. A new world where Inga could grow and Talion could rest. What a beautiful thought. Her eye glowed like an ember as she grinned widely, utterly intoxicated on power and domination. Her Fellbeast bleated as its great wings sent a shock of air that rung through her ears. It would not take long for this twisted wyvern to cross the span of the desert and reach the city of the dead.

* * *

Minas Morgul's sickly glow could be seen as far as Minas Tirith. Although behind a cascade, its faint green rose above them, a symbol of its corruption for Gondor's despair. The city that once as a beacon of light, standing alone against the darkness, now fell into ruin. The Witch King's curse had transformed it into a city of the dead and of unspeakable evil. In the face of this darkness, Gondor did not muster the courage to retake it. They dared not lay siege to the Witch King's kingdom lest he pour out his legions and personally slay their officers. For now, the High Commander remained roosted there as were his master's orders. He would not abandon the foothold even as word reached him of Celebrimbor's army marching to Barad-dûr. His master had given no command for aid. Sauron had been confident in his victory. He was certain he would capture the Wraith and his vessel, bringing them both to their knees. However, the Witch King was certain that vessel was Talion. He did not imagine the ranger would be descending upon him on a set of wings, about to lay waste to his domain.

As the Witch King sat upon the throne of the king, he heard the drake roar from afar. It spewed fire down upon his armies as it flew deeper into the city. The ancient king watched as Atanáro soared down towards the city's great tower. The dragon spun to the side, gliding past the great hall, and into the open window of the throne room, a luminous arrow was unleashed. Down upon the center of the room, the Ranger landed on his feet. His face had changed. The Witch King needed not to sense that he had fallen. His countenance had greatly altered since their last meeting. If before, he was a corpse given life, then he was now a corpse at last decaying. Soon only a shell of his former self would be left. Yet with such sacrifice, came great power.

"The fell ring of Isildur," said the Witch King, "So our brother has fallen…"

"As will you," said the new Nazgul, "I have come to return the city to its rightful owners. Gondor is under my protection. Return to your master, and decay in the wheel of time."

"Time is our ally," said the Witch King, "With time, all things are possible. My lord's power will return, as will his armies. You have only delayed us in an age where all else fails you. The light of the Elves is leaving, the Dwarves hide in their mountains, and the courage of men falters without a king. My master needs only reach out to take the world and it will be his."

"I am afraid this is far as you go," said Talion, "I will not permit you to take another step into this domain."

The ranger pulled out his sword and aimed it at the head of the dark commander.

The Witch King said, "Fool. You are without the wraith and his ring. The ring of my lesser brother will not save you."

"Your army will not reach you before the battle concludes, and your fellow wraith are far from here. There is nothing to keep me from banishing you."

The Witch King answered, "Choose your words carefully, fool. You stand before death itself."

With his hands crushing into the sides of his throne, the Witch King slowly stood up. The greatest of the Nazgul towered well over his prey. Although crowned with a helm portraying eyes, it portrayed only a memory of a man. It was an empty countenance, one of darkness, that Talion gazed at. That gazed back at him. The Witch King held, in his hands, his great flail and the sword of the fallen king. Although he faced a mighty warrior, the Witch King of Angmar was without fear. Fear was his ally, that which he consumed so readily. It could not harm him.

The ranger drew out his bow and fired off a luminous green arrow. Although with a lesser ring, he could still harness his powers in a way. After all, the new ring had been crafted to imitate the powers of Sauron and his grand ring. His imitation of an arrow shot forward, only to be nimbly deflected by a sudden swing of the enemy's longsword. It bounced across the ground before turning into a diamond dust. The ranger charged forward with his sword drawn. The Witch King's sword collided against his. They swiftly switched positions and sent perfect counters at the other's attacks. The ranger buckled as the Witch King's greater strength collided against his. The King of the Nazgul tore their blades apart and slashed at Talion's throat. The ranger ducked below it and swung his sword forward. The Witch King parried it and danced his sword about, trying to break through the ranger's guard. With each strike, the ranger viciously counterattacked. Their swords continued to collide for a moment as they slid off the other's edge. As they parried, the attack would swiftly alter the sword's angle so that it was transformed into a killing blow. However, neither would have any of it. Unless a mistake was made, the stalemate might continue forever. However, the Witch King was not a sword master alone nor at his strongest. He fought Talion only with a single hand as he continued to use the other to wield his flail. The sight of it so idly by kept Talion always on edge.

As their swords continued to do battle, the war flail suddenly tore through the air. The ranger ducked low below it. He wished now he had been trained in shield combat. Instead, the ranger was forced to teleport through it. He could no longer rely on the Bright Lord's ice, but he could move as fast as the Nazgul. Yes, into a cloud of darkness, Talion vanished and appeared behind the Nazgul. He sent a thrust forward, but it was lost as the Witch King dispelled. He appeared up a head beside his throne, pacing as he wondered how to slay his prey. In the same moment Talion saw him, the Angmar King lunged forward with the speed of a loosened arrow. His sword would have ran Talion through if the ranger had not vanished again into the darkness.

"You will join us brother," said the Witch King, "Your fate was decided the moment you put on that ring. Nay, the moment you chose to defy the Dark Lord."

"My fate remains my own," said Talion, "I will use your weapons against you, just as I always have!"

Their swords swiftly crashed into one another and slipped off the other's edge. They swiftly moved them to a guarding position and then slashed forward again. Their speed was immeasurable, fast as that of a great Elven warrior and with the mastery of the greatest of swordsmen. The Witch King now began to spin around, sending the edge of his sword towards Talion's leg. As he twisted about, his flail trailed closely after it. The ranger lept over the flail's low swing. He speedily moved in as the Witch King was forced to see his swings through. In the opening, he sent a swift thrust. The Witch King's sword was too fast and caught the Gravewalker's sword in his cross-guard. Suddenly, his flail was unleashed upwards, glancing at the ranger's chin. Talion lept backwards and pulled free his sword. It blocked the flail for a second, allowing the ranger to stumble backwards. However, the force of it was too great. His sword went flying through the air and the ranger was thrown off his feet.

The Witch King uttered, "It is useless… why do you resist? This war was never one that could be won. The Dark Lord could never be subjugated nor slain. Why delay the ending of the world?"

"Because…" said Talion, "I have not abandoned the world as you have. So, I will fight to save it. Even death itself will not stop me."

"You will make a fine Nazgul" answered his foe.

Although a sinister promise, it was not said out of hate. His tone was one of admiration and without spite. The Witch King truly desired to see the Ranger join him at his side. A replacement for the King of Gondor that was lost.

The Witch King stretched out his hands and drew upon all his power. The ranger felt a chill as he felt the moment of his execution decided upon. A dark magic was being called upon. A killing curse. A black energy now encircled the Witch King. It reminded Talion of what Isildur had called upon, but this energy was far greater and worse. Talion knew that not even the light of Galadriel could save one from this power. The ranger fired off his arrow through the open window. The ranger vanished as the area was engulfed in the grasp of death. The great Orcs that had been guarding the throne room now fell dead as their bodies melted apart. Any form of life from a single insect or rat, to the bats and birds that flew about, now turned to ruin.

The Ranger found himself falling into the air. He called upon his drake now. As he fell, the great beast, branded once more, swooped down to him. The ranger gasped as he crashed into the saddle and landed on his stomach. As he pulled himself up aboard it, he saw the black robes of the Witch King standing atop Atanáro's back, by his side. He grabbed hold of the Ranger by the throat and gazed up at him as he held him there in the air.

The Witch King uttered, "You stole what was mine. I will return the favor."

With ease, he tossed the Ranger down from the great height, and then took hold of the drake's mind. Atanáro cried out in pain as he was stripped of his loyalty and will once more. And so, Atanáro was now his to command. Talion fired off another arrow and reappeared on the rooftop of a building. He saw his dragon flying up above. A bolt of black smoke now hurled down at him and exploded upon the rooftop. The Witch King stood again before him. It seemed he would not be content with using his new advantage. He intended to break Talion without aid of another. Even in death and left a hollow shell, the Witch King still had the pride and arrogance of a king of Gondor. Or perhaps it was the honor and dignity of one.

The two opponents now remained frozen. The Ranger lowered his sword to his side, ready to make a fast upward slash to swat away his opponent's blade. The Witch King's left hand held up his blade at Talion's throat while his right latched onto the chains of his flail. In the same moment, they both unleashed their killing blows. The ranger lept over the swing of the flail, moving forward as he did. He brandished his sword, sending a strike upward as expected. However, it proved a feint and the Witch King's counterstrike crashed into the tiles of the roof. Meanwhile the Ranger moved his hands to the side of the blade, gripping the broad side of it. With the pommel now angled forward, he lunged forward and sent a blow at the Witch King's face. The Witch King stumbled backwards as Talion began to bash him in the helm with his sword. Talion now spun his blade around and jabbed the blade forward. Suddenly, the Witch King's metal gauntlet wrapped around the blade. His hand tightened around the metal and it shattered into pieces. He grabbed Talion by the throat and squeezed it with all his might. The ranger vanished in black smoke and then plunged his blade into the Witch King. His cutting steel slipped through as the Witch King walked through it unharmed, as it passed through his very head. The Witch King swiftly swung his flail at his opponent, still committed to his counterattack. The head of his flail crashed down into Talion's foot and shattered it into pieces. Talion roared out in pain. The Witch King now reached down and grabbed hold of the sword he had discarded. He angled it at Talion's throat and glared down upon his prey.

"You have failed, Ranger. The world of men will burn, and you will arise as its executioner."

He swung his blade forward and dug it deep into Talion's heart. His plate armor was nothing against the cursed blade. Talion could do nothing but look up in shock.

"You… will… kneel!"

His dark magic assaulted Talion. Like a great weight, the Witch King's will bore down upon him. He would not wait for the Morgul's blade to transform him. He would be branded here and now. Talion felt his mind being torn away, and he, subjugated by that of the dark king. Yet he managed to utter a single word.

"No…"

As he spoke, Talion's own ring resisted that of its brother. Green flames burst about the ranger and he now stood tall amidst the dark magic. The Witch King swung his sword down at Talion to split him in half. Talion drew out his final weapon, the broken blade of his son. The edge of it danced off of the Morgul blade's greater weight. The ranger skillfully parried his dagger to the side and then sent it forward in a sudden thrust. He stabbed it into the Witch King's chest as he grasped hold of his mind. However, the Witch King was not so easily taken. His mind could not be pierced. His power was far greater than what Talion had now, even if Talion could resist his branding. So then, the ranger would have to make him submit. He swung the blade forward again into the Witch King's throat. It stabbed into him again and again. The Witch King screamed out in pain as Talion gutted him. All the while, Talion tied his magic around the weakening foe. At last, the Witch Kings' defenses were broken.

"You cannot dominate me," said the Witch King, "No man can."

Talion said "Indeed. But I can send you from this place. You are banished from Minas Morgul! Flee now to Mordor and await your doom!"

The Witch King roared it, "Curse you! Minas Morgul is mine! I will return one day to reclaim it and you will arise a true Nazgul."

"Perhaps so," said Talion, "But today, the forces of darkness have lost."

With that, he pierced at the Witch King's mind and sent out an unbreakable command. Even if the Witch King's curse remained in Minas Morgul, Talion had proclaimed it for himself and the weakened Ringwraith could no longer enter it. A wall of magic was built upon it, and forced out the Witch King. Once his tangible form had healed, he would flee atop his mount as he plotted his revenge on the fallen kingdom.

* * *

Talion arose now from the Haedir he had commandeered. Although he had defeated the Witch King, he had been slain in battle as well He now arose yet again from the painful process of the undying, dragged from peace to fight once more. Already, he felt the corruption of the ring upon him, but he resisted it. With such might, it might be many years before it fully consumed him. Nevertheless, a simple act of evil might be all it would take for him to fall. For now, the Ranger gathered the bag of gear and garments he had left there before engaging the Witch King. He would need to find new armor before continuing his invasion effort. He knew the Witch King had predicted he would commandeer the city before dueling him. For this reason, he had struck swiftly at the heart of the enemy to slip past such defenses. Now he would need to deal with the twenty thousand Orc that occupied Minas Morgul.

* * *

For the next few days, Talion stealthily infiltrated the city. With his drake stolen from him, he was forced to slip about in the darkness. He took the minds of officers and key Uruk that ruled the citadel. He took control of a smithy, having the blacksmiths forge him a new armor and tailors sow robes to match it. He needed to appear fearsome before them. He needed to inflict the fear the Witch King had used to take Minas Morgul and keep it in line. For that reason, he had created a set of long black robes that felt to his knees with a hood that covered most of his face. He was then clad in the plated, armor of Mordor that was split into many segments as the Orc favored. Against the darkness of his armor, his pale features and glowing eyes stood out all the more. He looked the part of a Nazgul. Now he would inflict the fear and unleash the dark magic upon the Uruk.

* * *

"Who goes there?" asked a scout who guarded an outpost of the upper city. The goblins behind him began to stir. In the pitch black of night, their eyes struggled to see who was walking closer. The guard brought out a torch to get a closer look. Up ahead, he could see the Nazgul that was slowly approaching.

"The Tark!" said the guard, "Sound the alarm."

The ranger fired off his bow immediately and slew the goblin. The other guards now scrambled up ahead.

"He's horribly outnumbered! Take him on all sides boys!" said the officer leading them.

"'Outnumbered?'" asked the Nazgul, "I'm afraid it is you who are horribly outnumbered."

From behind him, the goblins could see the fell glow of the dead. He had summoned a mass of spirits. They were city guard who had been slain when the outer-wall was breached. Thanks to the new ring, the ranger had no difficulty summoning the restless dead. They would now do his bidding, a final chance at revenge. The spirits charged forward. The Orcs let out a scream of fear as they were overrun.

From the fallen, Talion called upon the new ring. The fallen corpses began to tremble as a venomous cloud sprang out from them. As if being pulled by strings, the dead Orcs sprung to life. However, their minds were distant. They said nothing as their new master summoned them.

Talion then turned to the spirits and said, "You have done well. Go now and rest in peace."

The guards gave him words of thanks. A sudden gust of wind fell upon them and carried their souls away from the land of the living.

The Nazgul now looked upon his Orc company. He would need many more. Fortunately, the city was filled with them.

* * *

After several days, Minas Morgul at last fell. Talion took control of the Overlord, Warchiefs, and Captains that the Witch King had decreed be stationed there. Word spread that a terrible, rogue Nazgul who was of such power he had cast out the greatest of Sauron's servants. Word spread of one who rose the dead, who mastered death itself. It was said that all whom rose against him would succumb to a terrible fate. With fear rank and their captains turned, the Orc legions soon fell in line while the rests fled to the Black Gate.

* * *

However, upon his victory, the wings of the Fell Beasts descended upon Minas Morgul.

Ursa looked down at the city and said, "So the Witch King has failed. Talion has become strong… even without Celebrimbor's ring. How wonderful. Soon he will be mine."

Beside her, the Nazgul sisters rode together atop another Fell Beast. Daughters of a king from a foreign land, they continued to wage war even in death. Both wore matching masks with ornate patterns. In their hands, they wielded sets of chains tied to curved blades, weapons meant for harnessing and reaping the living.

Ursa said to the sisters, "We were too late. If the Witch King was banished, he will not be able to return for many months."

The Daughter of Khand said, "Our orders were clear. To aid the Witch King, not to duel on his behalf. Let us return then to the side of our master."

Ursa's eye narrowed. Certainly that was a strategic decision she agreed with but… now that she had him here… could she wait so many months? By then, Talion would become a Nazgul, his mind corrupted and twisted beyond repair. He needed the new ring.

The Black Captain said, "Sauron gave me command over you and so you will obey. I will go to him. Should he resist, reveal yourselves to the Ranger. He will not kill me so the advantage is ours."

The lesser Nazgul hissed and spoke, "So be it."

* * *

The ranger looked up in the air. His eyes were fixed on the fell beast. He had never seen one before. However, it was not the creature that had enamored him. It was the Black Captain that drew closer. Even though he could not yet see her face, he knew undoubtedly it was the one he sought and longed for. He sighed in relief knowing she had survived, yet he dreaded the meeting that was before him.

The Fell Beast closed up its wings and plunged swiftly down to from the sky. Its wings opened up moments from the earth as it landed atop the balcony of the palace. Even with its immense size, the stone floor neither collapsed nor cracked. The creature was lighter than it seemed. Its dark rider now dismounted. Talion was awestruck for a moment as he thought he was looking upon the Black Hand. His apprehension turned to disgust. He had to remind himself she could not have known whom she so closely resembled. As he gazed in awe, the rider pulled back her hood and mask, revealing her long black hair and pale features. She now ran forward excitedly. Seeing her so, Talion's defenses lowered for a moment. He knew her. She seemed unchanged. Talion stretched out his arms and embraced her.

"Talion," she said, "I've missed you so."

She pressed her lips hard against his and deepened the kiss, pulling him in further. They shared a kiss which felt like an age unto itself. At last, she broke away, beaming at him with affection.

"Talion… I love you. I love you more than anything, even now."

"Ursa," he said, "Forgive me. I wanted more than anything to save you from the Bright Lord, but I could not risk losing Minas Morgul."

"There is nothing to forgive," she said, "The Bright Lord has been captured. It is over. The war is won, Talion. Sauron's might is broken, as is the Elf lord's."

"Indeed," said Talion, "The war has gone well, yet I must hold Minas Morgul until I succumb to the curse of the ring."

"You have done enough, Talion," said the Black Captain, "Let us leave this place and go to Amdir."

Talion's eyes wavered for a moment.

"To Inga…"

He then recovered his composure as he recalled his quest and conviction. He had already made his choice and chosen to sacrifice his happiness to do what was right.

He said, "Ursa, we both know that is not so easily done. What of your master?"

She said, "Worry not of him. Let us leave this wretched place."

"You would betray him?"

"I would. You need only put on this new ring. Then you will not fall to his darkness."

"A new ring?" he asked.

"In place of power, it will grant a generous lifespan. Should you wear it, our dreams will again be possible. You will see."

Talion said, "I cannot. If I were to abandon this ring, who would control the garrison? Who would defend the city from Sauron's next siege? I must hold them off."

Ursa asked sadly, "Will you not come with me?"

"I'm sorry, Ursa. I cannot abandon Gondor so easily. Even more, I cannot travel with you as you are. Ursa, you can hide it all you like. Do you believe that I am a fool, that I cannot tell when my own wife has changed? What has happened to you? When did you fall into total darkness?"

Ursa's eye widened in surprise. However, that shock soon vanished. Her countenance became more relaxed and amused as they conversed, yet it only served to send a chill down Talion's spine.

"Well, I suppose that is true," Ursa said, "Nevertheless, my offer stands. Come with me. Away from here. This place belongs to the Witch King."

Talion's eyes became grave. They trembled as he tried to hold back tears.

He said, "So you really have chosen this path?"

Ursa said, "We have spoken of this before. Even with the Dark Lord's power over me, my love for you remains. I will never let him hurt you nor Inga. He will not. That was our deal."

"The Dark Lord does not bargain with his servants."

"I am special to him."

Hearing those words, Talion glared at her angrily now.

Ursa stretched out her hand and said, "Please Talion… come with me. Lay down your sword and find peace. I will carry on the war alone."

"That… I cannot permit."

The Black Captain spoke, "Your ring is devouring your mind. Soon you will be a Ringwraith, the very thing you fight to overthrow. Only my ring of long, lasting life can save you. If you will not leave Minas Morgul, then please at least take it."

Ursa flashed the silver of the ring, as Talion was reminded of the purity of Celebrimbor's new ring. In the end, was it truly a pure thing?

He shook his head and said, "Then I would be defenseless to stop Mordor from conquering the citadel."

"Talion…" said Ursa, "I will not force this on you. Please consider my offer. With this new ring, you and Inga can live full lives together. Think of Inga. Think of me. I will return tomorrow at dusk again ti hear your final decision. I hope you choose peace."

Ursa blew Talion a kiss playfully as she turned away from her Ranger. Talion collapsed onto his throne in grief and with a heavy heart. This would have been the perfect moment for her to attempt to capture him, and this would have been the perfect moment to try to brand her. Yet they did nothing. She walked farther and farther from his sight and he remained steady upon his throne.

Ursa strode away now in utter silence, utterly confident of her victory and that she would save him from a terrible fate. Even so, there was a moment of worry in her heart and she turned quickly to see him with his pale skin in a state so close to death. And he in turn, looked upon her with sadness as he saw his wife succumbing to a dark fate, as the fires of Mordor burned ever hotter within her. This would be their parting for a time.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I have received a lot of positive feedback recently and it means so much to me. It encouraged me to improve what I had already written. When I originally wrote these last several chapters, I felt the story had dragged on for too long so I quickened the pace. Recently, I began adding many more sections like Celebrimbor's conclusion up above, along with extending Ursa's appearances in this and the next few chapters. Sadly, there are only a few chapters left in Ursa of Fire. I hope you will enjoy how it comes together and ends.


	33. The End of Love and the Inferno

**Chapter Thirty-Three: The End of Love and the Inferno**

"Talion, can you hold Inga for a moment."

"Of course."

The ranger took his daughter into his burly arms and held her overhead again. She seemed to grow by the day. He now let her rest against his chest, a blanket wrapped snugly around her. Slowly her rocked her back and fourth while he gazed down at her lovingly. Before him, Ursa was making tidy the bed, having sent the maid away to rest for the day. Her golden eye softened at the beautiful sight before her, as it always did. Parenthood suited him so wonderfully. The Ranger now looked up at her, and wondered what was the reason for such focus.

"Ursa? What is it?"

"It's just… I'm so glad that Inga has you as a father and I… have you as a husband."

Talion blushed at her words as she fluttered her eyelashes so lovingly, as she graced him with the warmest of smiles. The honeymoon had long been over yet Ursa still lifted him up, washing away the scars and guilt he carried with him. Not a day went by where he didn't feel loved by her and it was in that mutual love Inga would know life.

That was what he had thought.

* * *

The Ranger opened his eyes now as he found himself slumped upon a throne in the coldness of the citadel. Amidst the green glow for the throne room, he still felt the Witch King's dire curse upon the city. He fed it himself with his own twisted magic, that of his wretched existence. He groaned as he stretched his muscles. He was relieved he could still sleep but... it was hollow to him. He neither felt tired nor rested anymore. Yet amidst his new life, he found a single tear left upon his cheek. As he wiped it off, he wished so dearly to go back to that memory again. Before he had fallen. Before she had. Yet he then recalled the woman he loved was not far off. She would return to hear his decree, wielding the banner of the Dark Lord.

* * *

Talion walked outside now to the edge of the city square of the upper level. He awaited here patiently with many of his Uruk soldiers and archers about. They had been given orders not to harm Ursa but to slay her Fellbeast and any of her allies should the negotiations turn to blood. His black eyes and yellow irises poured through the darkness, gazing through the eyes of a Wraith to see all. He could see the black beast, a sight no ordinary human could spot in such darkness. Yet his eyes could. Her Fellbeast dived down and opened up its wings only a few yards from the ground. It's iron talons crashed down and bore deep into the stone tiles. It's rider, a Black Captain adorned in black raiment strode forward with a stave in hand. Tied to the armor of the great rider was a banner of a crimson, serpentine eye. In the fearsome winds of the dead city, it billowed about.

Ursa pulled back her hood and slipped off her mask yet again. The sight alone brought life back to the Ranger, as he saw his wife albeit transformed, but no longer resembling the Black Hand in dress. She strode forward towards him with an expression of affection and mischievousness. Again her cool lips came down upon his. Once his body had brought her warmth, but now they both were as cold as corpses. The Black Captain's gloved hand slid up to his metallic armor, to his chest as if trying to feel his naked flesh.

She said, "How exquisite you look dressed like a Nazgul."

The Ranger's eyes widened as she said it. It had been meant as a method of fear to rule the Uruk but… was that truly the reason? Did he pour out his curse upon Minas Morgul to stave off the other Nazgul and subjugate the Orc? Could he not have restored it to its former glory? Was he truly already falling? He did not know, but his mind thought to the ring she had offered him. Quickly, he discarded the thought. His mind had been set for many weeks now. He was accepting of the terrible fate that awaited him if it meant holding back evil for the next century.

As Talion did not answer her, she now said, "Do not think black is a fetching color for me?"

The Ranger said, "I have think you look lovely in whatever dress or garb you choose."

She smiled warmly as her pale cheek rested upon his shoulder, her long silken hair sliding across his stubble. The Ranger shut his eyes and put his arm around her. This felt real. Ursa still truly loved him even after falling into Sauron's corruption. His hand rubbed up and down her back, feeling the softness of her hair. He had missed her. He had not expected to see her again when he fled Barad-dûr. The Black Captain said nothing of her demands for a time. For what felt like an hour, they simply embraced in each other's arms and kissed. At last, she broke away to gaze up at him.

"Talion," she asked, "What is your decision?"

"Ursa… Your offer is sorely tempting. Only… I have made my choice to fight for the free people of Middle Earth. And for that, I need the ring of a Nazgul. For that reason, I cannot be your ally. I will never side with Mordor. It was Sauron that slew my family, that butchered the innocent, and that enslaved the Orc.. There is no justice in this. To side with him, is to betray everything you fought for, my love."

Ursa said, "I am sorry to hear that, but I am not surprised. I wish I could make you see that with Sauron there is life. There is hope for all life. Well… I do not wish to fight. Will you walk with me?"

"Very well."

"And Talion… please do not think of branding me. I would have to burn us both."

* * *

The Ranger felt his heart sinking with every moment as they walked together. How could she look so happy when it had all fallen apart? After he had done such a terrible thing to Bruz? After she had betrayed him in turn? How could Ursa be so happy even though this could only end in tragedy? At last, he closed his eyes and sighed. If even for a moment… he wished to forget the gulf between them. He slid his hand between her fingers and Ursa smiled in turn.

She said sweetly, "This is my first time visiting Minas Ithil."

The Ranger smiled as she called it by its true name and so he answered, "It was far brighter when first I arrived a year ago but… even then it was burning. Even so, it is a beautiful city that has endured centuries."

"It is beautiful," she said.

Talion smiled as he wished to speak to her a while longer. It was then he looked to the rooftops and saw the last archers now out of range. The eyes of the Nazgul scanned the area but she had brought no spies it seemed. Yet as his eyes looked high into the heavens, he saw another pair of Fellbeasts silently soaring, looking no more than bats from such heights.

Talion said, "Ursa, do you mean to lead me away from my defenses?"

Ursa said calmly, "I wish to walk with you. Being away from your arrowheads is merely a benefit."

"Ursa… I do not wish to fight you, but I cannot hand over the city."

"Well," said Ursa, "I wonder what you will do then. If I slay you, you will return anew. But I have a mortal life. Will you kill me, Talion?"

"I will not kill you, Ursa, but you will be defeated here."

"Is that so?" she said as she grinned.

It as if her countenance had changed in that moment. All the tranquility of hers burned like oil-soaked tinder from the first flame. The fires of Mordor burned within her eye as she reveled in the moment to show her quality. Talion's suffering at the sight quickly turned to steel as he prepared himself, his hand reaching for his sword. Behind her, the wings of the Fellbeast beat and sent forth a torrent of air with it. Its talons came down and swooped her up from Talion's grasp. He watched in disbelief as one of the Nazgul pulled on the reigns and the beast took the Black Captain even higher into the sky. Without wounding her, it carried her body in it limbs. A moment later, Ursa's own winged steed flew beneath them and iron prison released her. She landed gracefully atop the saddle and took control of the reigns.

The Ranger's eyes furrowed as the two beasts were let loose on the city. If there was one consolation it was that they were not armed with fire as Atanáro had been. Yet his defenses were in danger.

An arrow launched at Ursa's Fellbeast. The other two Nazgul vanished back into the lair of clouds overhead to trail after her while the Ranger lost sight of them. As the branded archer shot upon her, the Fell Beast dived upon it and its talon swooped it up. The Orc could not even scream as the great pair of jaws crushed down upon it. The Black Captain now summoned an orb the size of a marble. She sent it out to the nest where the archers resided. As she splayed out her fingers, the small ember ignited into a blazing inferno. It engulfed all in roosted in the tower. The Daughters of Khand began to pick off archers from the roofs, as Talion's defenses were quickly undone.

Once the Fellbeasts were no longer in danger, Ursa now brought her beast back to the throne room. The Ranger had not come out to meet themin battle. If so, then undoubtedly he awaited her in his own lair. She knew he wished to fight in her an enclosed space, away from her mount and companions. Behind her, the city's garrison was swarming, preparing rows of crossbows and troops to surround the central spire and throne room. The Black Captain would not allow them to get between her and her prey. She brought up a hand and rose up her cursed staff as it began to glow a pale red. Behind her, a grand wall of fire as tall as the walls of the city was born. It quickly engulfed behind her, blocking off the legion that ran to Talion's defense. It spanned the entirety of the upper level in width. With such magic from her stave, Ursa did not struggle as she had to produce such grand magic in the past. She had become a truly deadly sorceress.

* * *

The Nazgul waited on the throne for her coming. He knelt forward with cold, callous eyes towards the great balcony up above where the forces of darkness would no doubt arrive from. His muscular arms were stretched forth atop the pommel of his sword as its edge dug downward into the floor. He waited patiently for her, trying to calm his mind. He could not see her as an enemy but would have to hurt her. Something he had promised never to do again. The thought of putting another wound upon her scarred body horrified Talion. But even so, his mind steeled for the battle that was to come.

The silence was maddening yet in that madness, in the corruption that burned through his mind always now, he suddenly saw clearly. The Fell beat's bat wings opened up like a great curtain through the darkness and Ursa lept off. She strode forward across the balcony and downstairs to where he sat, just as they had met the day before.

Ursa said, "In the end, all is decided by war. Not by words nor pen. I wish I could have accepted that earlier."

"I loved that you did not. Your hope and dreams gave hope to all. Even now, it keeps me from despair."

Ursa said, "Even as you give yourself over to darkness, you have hope? That is beautiful. I can't wait to show you what true beauty is when you see the world as I do."

Talion said, "You intend then to hand me over to Sauron?"

"I do not. I love you as you are, but I do hope for you to understand. You and Inga will have plenty of time when we return home."

"To Nurn or to Barad-dûr?"

Ursa smirked and asked, "Amdir is not fit for our daughter. She should live in the capital of Middle Earth."

"Enough!," said Talion with fury as she showed her true intentions, "I can permit much but not such words as that. If we are to fight, then let it be so. Prepare yourself, Ursa."

"Splendid," she said as she smiled widely, "I will show you how much I've blossomed.

Ursa drew a hand below her mouth and parted her lips. She began to blow forward at him as if throwing a kiss. From it, an onslaught of fire emerged like a crimson storm cloud erupting. Talion retreated into a cloud of black smoke and fled deep into the throne room. Ursa smirked and strode forward. She looked about in the shadows for him. She suddenly heard his voice booming and echoing through the chamber.

He said, "Ursa… this is not you! Can you not see that? Remember your dreams! Remember your love of people… of all races! You never savored violence."

Talion now appeared right behind her. She turned her head to the side and gazed lovingly at him. Her face seemed utterly at peace in that moment. She had a lazy smile upon her face and her eye focused on him not as an enemy, but as a lover.

"My dreams," she said, "Are all possible with the Dark Lord. And I have never felt more alive."

She smiled at him once again as she said, "I don't feel it anymore. The dread, the guilt, the pain… the dark memories. He has saved me from them. I feel so light, Talion. I wish you could feel the same. Fear not. I will rescue you from your burdens. You need be a ranger no more."

She sent out another wave of fire. The Ranger's magic sent him through it unharmed and he charged forward. He swung his sword at Ursa's staff, trying to disarm her. She spun her staff around and dueled him for a moment. He was socked by how she twisted it like a whirlwind to parry his blows, catching him off guard. Yet she was not foolish enough to duel a master like Talion for long. She immediately created a shield of fire close enough to singe her own flesh. Talion flanked her, emerging at her back with his sword ready to strike her. Her fire now engulfed the area around her, creating an ball of fire that protected her like a shield without edges. Ursa now fired it outward in all directions, engulfing all in flame and smoke. In that moment, she saw a luminescence arrow pass her. Ursa sent fire upon it, knowing how Talion's powers worked. However, the arrow caught fire and moved past. From behind her, the ranger sent a swift kick. Ursa yelped as she was knocked off her feet. The ranger ran forward now and reached down to brand her. She looked up with a smile, impressed that he had managed to outwit her.

But Ursa was not to be outmatched in wits for long.

From his side, two chains wrapped around him. The female Nazgul appeared and slashed at his throat with their scythes. Talion transformed into a body of smoke and reappeared beside them. The chains now fell empty at their feet. The sisters reappeared by the walls of the massive room.

They called out, "How could one so weak defeat the Witch King? You will suffer greatly."

The Black Captain said, "Do not underestimate him. He has defeated your brothers before and he will do so again."

As Ursa spoke to them, she sent forth an orb of fire. Talion rolled to the side. The orb suddenly exploded, bursting into a fiery torrent. He was forced to vanish yet again and reappear. He saw that his hands were now burnt. The sisters then appeared forward and swiped at him. He kicked one away while parrying the slash of another. As the daughter of Khand bore down upon him, he neither hesitated nor struggled against their incredible speed and finesse. Their chains glided through the air, always threatening to entwine around him. Their scythes reaped at his flesh, yet he danced past each strike. As one sister slashed at his neck, he sent a swift knee into his attacker's stomach and reached forward as she buckled in pain.

"You are banished!" he roared.

The sister screamed as she was forced out of the room. In that same moment, the ground beneath Talion caught fire. Both he and the Nazgul transformed into black smoke, and fled the location. The ranger cursed under his breath. It seemed Ursa cared not for what became of her companions. He also realized his banishing of the Nazgul had been too hasty. It would not last long. Even so, his power had been enough to so swiftly dominate her.

Talion fired off an arrow at Ursa now. She sent a wave of fire and blocked it, blowing the arrow off course. The ranger was relieved by her choice. It offered him a moment to fight off the female Ringwraith before him. He swung his sword and collided it with her scythe. As he did, her chain appeared from the side and wrapped around his neck. She slashed open his body, or so it seemed. As she cute into his position, his body turned to dust. Once it passed through him,Talion grabbed hold of the chain with one hand and slashed forward cutting through her chest. The Nazgul screamed in pain and vanished from his sight.

Ursa said, "That's the trouble with these Nazgul. They underestimate their opponents. I told them not to lower their guard."

She sung to him, "You are a great warrior. Perhaps the greatest."

The Black Captain now reached out her hand and poured out the fires of Mordor once more. She sent blasts of fire after Talion, each that could turn a man into ash. He dashed with the speed of the Wraith, barely avoiding them as they torched the area and left his palace in shambles. As he fled, he could hear Ursa laughing hysterically, her heart lighter than it had ever been.

"I wonder if you can avoid this," she said.

She now amplified her magic with the staff and stamped the stave into the earth. Her magic was summoned, cocooning her in a ball of fire. The hungry flames fed on the air around her and expanded into a sea. The flames consumed the entirety of the throne room in an instant. The throne and the statues in the room were obliterated as her fire erupted with such intensity, it shattered the ancient walls. As her fire cleared, Ursa searched for her lover.

She said, "Your magic is running out, Talion. Soon you will be mine."

Her eye darted to her feet as she saw a cloud of darkness churning out from the stone floor. Ursa's eye gazed at his coming and instantly set the floor ablaze. However, Talion did not yet take form. Plumes of his hollow form flew away towards the broken throne of the king. He then sat in the seat, dropping his sword to the side. He now gazed at her with a grave countenance.

Ursa smiled and asked him, "I've grown stronger, have I not? Won't you praise me?"

"You have grown strong, my love," he said, "Defeating you will be difficult."

"Then lower your sword. Or let us continue to fight if you wish. It no longer matters."

"No, Ursa. It will be you who drops your weapon."

"Oh?" she asked whimsically.

"You will, because you love me. You will because even with the Dark Lord's hold over you, you would never surrender me to him. You would never hand over Inga to him."

"I would," she said, "You will both be safe in Barad-dûr."

"You will drop your weapon, Ursa," said Talion, "I believe you will."

Ursa's smile now began to disappear.

Talion lowered his gaze as he spoke softly, "I know that I have been unfair to you. You tried to warn me about Celebrimbor. You begged me to not forsake the Orc. I should have been more compassionate. Ursa… I'm sorry."

Her smile now vanished completely.

She said, "I don't care about that. All I care about is you."

"Ursa… we will protect Amdir. The Orc and men of the tribes will live together there in harmony. I will wear the ring you have given me, and together, live in peace with Inga."

"Liar," she said, "You will not forsake your duties."

"I will," he promised, "If it means saving you, I will surrender it all. I will not lose you again. I know that if I choose this path, you will return to me. We will go to Carnán, and live in peace. Your father will be there to watch as we grow old. We will grow old, Ursa. We will grow old because you chose our future over the Dark Lord. Because no matter what, he cannot take that love from you. Your love will save us. I know you are strong. I have always known. Even now, I believe you will do the right thing."

She said, "You speak such sweet words, but they are not to be. I have chosen the path of life."

"That life is not in fire and war," said her husband, "It is with Inga."

Ursa said, "Said by a man who cannot give up such things. You cannot lie to me. Talion. I see-""

"That's enough. Ursa!" he said, "You don't have to be strong anymore. You're not alone. You'll never be alone ever again. So come home."

He then reached out his hand. Ursa's eyes became sad.

Ursa said, "If you do not wish me to be alone, then join me. Why resist any longer when happiness is within reach? Why must you be the hero to the bitter end? You have sacrificed enough."

Talion said, "I know that you no longer trust me. You told me once that I only loved the human part of you. That I could never accept what you really are. Do you remember?"

She said, "That doesn't matter anymore. I know you love me, Talion."

"I do love you… Ursa… I truly love you. I love the human within you. And I love the Orc. I love the black blood that flows within your veins. I thought long and hard about it, you see. I had so much time to think as I waited idly in the city. In the end, I realized that I cannot imagine a world where that part was taken from you. You would no longer be the woman I know. From now on, I will cherish you wholly."

Ursa's eye became soft and she let out a somber smile.

"Talion…"

He said, "Even the fiery side in your eyes that I was so afraid of… I do not fear it anymore. I know it is only a part of you and I love to see you smile."

"Talion, please-"

Ursa's now gasped in shock. The ranger had vanished from her sight as his human form reappeared in front of her. His palm was over her face.

"I truly love you, Ursa. Now I will save you."

Ursa fell onto her knees as he took hold of her mind. She felt his power crushing down upon the branding of the Dark Lord and stealing her from the gasp of Sauron. She could only look up in shock as he unleashed all of his power, even more than he had used to brand Bruz. Yet he used it carefully like a stream of water washing over her. Such a difference compared to the burning light that had pierced the minds of his foes beforehand. Silently, he dueled with the will of the Dark Lord, that which he could not dominate.

Talion said, "I cannot expel the Dark Lord it would seem, but I can brand you nonetheless. I order you to return to my side nor to serve Sauron any longer."

The Ranger now released his grip. He reached down to Ursa. She looked up at him and blinked. She answered him in naught but a whisper.

"Talion…"

"Ursa, is that you?"

"It is. Talion, I'm sorry."

With those words, she reached up into his arms and cried.


	34. The Duel and The Witch King's Revenge

**Chapter Thirty-Four: The Last Duel and The Witch King's Revenge**

In the highest tower of Minas Morgul, a great battle had taken place. Fire still burned, even on the stone floor it could not latch onto. In the center of the inferno, stood the Witch and Gravewalker. The King and Queen. Ursa stood knelt down as Talion finished the process. At last, he released his grasp. He reached down to Ursa. His eyes were heavy with regret as he did the unforgivable to his own wife. She looked up at him and blinked, her face grave and sorrowful.

"Talion…"

"Ursa, is that you?"

"It is. Talion, I'm sorry."

"As am I. In the end, I broke my promise. I said I would never brand you, and yet, I've failed so spectacularly."

"It is a small sacrifice to pay for regaining some of myself. I've… done terrible things. I took pleasure in hurting others, I relished in this power. It… felt good. For a little while, I felt as if I were reborn. As if all the darkness of my life had vanished at once. As I fell into a curse, the curse that has marked my life seemed to no longer matter. I felt so free… But that was a lie."

A single tear made its way down her cheek as Ursa spoke softly, "In truth, I fell into darkness. I simply ceased to resist it. It was so easy to fall, to commit evil deeds. I did something unforgiveable, didn't I? I would have taken you and Inga to Barad-dûr. What a fool I am."

"Ursa, you-"

She then turned to Talion and said, "Please believe me when I say I did not mean to betray you! Not truly. When I left, it was only to save you. I intended to have Celebrimbor sealed when he confronted the Dark Lord on his tower. You and I would work together to defeat Sauron. I planned it so carefully. Then… Then I saw Eltariel and Celebrimbor arrive without you and I knew what they had done. I felt such hatred. I would have given myself over if it meant avenging you. I.. I wanted the world to burn for all it had done to you and to me. I am ashamed. I have failed."

The Ranger said, "You told me long ago to brand you should you fall. You knew this might happen."

"Yes," she said, "But it was not supposed to be like this. If you hadn't saved me, what evil deeds would I have committed as a Black Captain? Would I have enslaved all of Middle Earth?"

"That's enough, Ursa," he said, "That darkness no longer has hold over you. It was the good in you that lowered your guard so I could brand you."

"You think so?"

"I do."

She then looked straight at him and said, "I hope you can learn to trust me again. I hope I can prove that I truly love you."

He said, "Ursa… I have never once doubted your love. Having you again, nothing could make me happier."

He reached forward and kissed her. Tears slipped down Ursa's face as she returned the kiss. As Talion pulled away, he saw her sorrowful eyes. For all his words of encouragement, Talion knew it was not so simple. Guilt and evil actions could not be washed away so easily. Even so, he wanted to believe their love would carry the through this. And that he could forgive himself for enslaving his own lover.

Talion said, "Now…will you fight by my side once more?"

"I will."

"Good," he said, "When you are by my side, I feel stronger."

Ursa said, "And I am reminded, that there is still light left in this world. Even if all the world is against us, shrouded in darkness, you are all I see."

In that moment, the Nazgul sisters returned. Their chains appeared about them as they swung forward their scythes. Ursa slammed down her staff before her so that the enemy's chains wrapped around it. Behind her, the Ranger parried the Nazgul's scythe to the side. The female Nazgul vanished and reappeared beside them. Ursa sent out a spiral of fire that warded them off. Her fire expanded out to burn all in its path. One of the sisters phased through it, slashing at the Ranger. However, his magic was already active. Her blade passed through a black cloud of dust. Immediately, his sword returned to the mortal realm and slashed at her. The Wraith veered backwards and slipped the chain between her hand skillfully. Talion watched carefully to see where it would strike. She spun around and lashed it forward at him, her chain ringing through the air as it shot like a striking serpent. He ducked to the side and swung forward his sword. She caught the sword against the silver chain and retreated.

Meanwhile, the other sister's chains wrapped around Ursa throat. The Nazgul pulled in the chain, throwing Ursa forward. The Wraith grabbed her by the throat and lifted up her scythe to finish her off. Ursa's eye fell upon the Nazgul and sent fire atop them both. The Ringraith vanished once more, passing through Ursa as she extinguished her own flames. The Black Captain stretched out her hand and sent a wall of fire through the room, separating the Ringwraith from her sister.

Ursa said, "You are alone, Ringwraith."

The Princess of Khand uttered, "Foolish woman. Of your own accord, you are doomed!"

Suddenly, Ursa's wall of flame was put out. Talion looked forward as Ursa dueled the sister. He fired off his arrow and appeared beside her. In his wake, his opponent's scythe cut through his last position. On the other side of the room, Ursa's eye gazed at the Nazgul as she dueled. She fired where Talion had been. Her fire lit the ground beneath the Wraith's feet. As for the foe beside her, Talion's sword plunged into her. He grabbed forward and reached into her mind. She was now his servant, and he was free to remove her burden. As he removed his hand, she remained on her knees, gazing upwards at her new master. The ranger's sword now slid forward and into her throat.

"You are released. Go and die in peace" he said.

The princess let out a deep gasp, as if breathing for the first time in centuries.

"Thank you, Gondorian," she said as her black form fell apart.

For a moment, Talion saw a beautiful young woman of the East, with dark black hair tied in a ponytail, adorned in golden armor. A proud warrior of Khand that fell to ruin, seeking to overthrow her tyrant of a father. Falling into a thirst for power by the time she bore the Nazgul's ring and usurped the throne for herself. Sharing it with only one other, her precious sister. As such memories returned to her, she transformed into a being of light and left the world.

"No!" shouted her sister in anguish, even as she burned. The Nazgul now vanished out of the throne room, fleeing in the direction of her Fell Beast.

Ursa said, "She escaped. We must pursue."

Talion said, "We shall."

He drew out his bow and prepared a shot for the window of the throne room. In that moment, the daughter of Khand climbed out of the floor beneath him. The Ranger had dropped his guard, not expecting such cunning. So sure she had fled. Her chains wrapped around his throat, and arms, disabling him completely for a moment. Her hand swiftly reached for him and tried to dominate him. As she wrestled with his mind unable to take it, his guard was lowered for but a moment. Her other hand wrapped around that of the Ranger. The Rranger saw her tear the ring of Isildur and retreat. Her own ring fell to the ground, slipping off as she relinquished ownership of it.

She said, "Now, I will take my place by his side. You will pay for what you have done."

Isildur's ring was taken in her possession as her steel gauntlet snapped shut upon it. At that moment, Ursa's rage was focused upon her. Her fire engulfed her completely. A black cloud through the grand window marked her flight and so the vengeful daughter fled forth back to her Fell Beast. With a ring far mightier than her own, she would rise again as a member of the Nine, but she would not return to this place. Not soon.

On the floor was the abandoned ring of the newly-appointed Nazgul.

Talion said, "She has taken the branded Orcs. Minas Morgul is lost."

Ursa said, "My love, take the ring I forged for you."

He reached forward for the cursed ring abandoned by its previous master. He slipped it onto his palm and gazed at it.

"I cannot accept a ring without power."

"Yes, you can."

"No… I cannot. My work here is not yet done."

"That's enough," she said, "That's enough, Talion!"

He looked up at her. The Ranger's body now turned cold. She saw his wounds beginning to open. The ring slipped upon his fingers now, and the wounds receded. The ranger gasped and coughed as he felt fresh air enter his lungs.

He said, "This ring is powerless."

"It is pure," she said, "Perhaps the only creation of purity Sauron has made in thousands of years."

"Then it is a weapon of corruption. Perhaps not now, but in time it will…"

"It will not," she said, "Even if so, it is too weak to take you swiftly. If you can resist the corruption of the Nazgul's ring so readily, then this will not be so dangerous. This ring was made not to subjugate you, but to end your reign as a warrior. For if you could not be made a Nazgul, then you would again be made a man. If Sauron could not defeat you, then you are to lay down your sword and grow old. With this ring, we can live together with Inga."

Talion said, "I am to forfeit all I have done? To abandon Minas Morgul to its fate?"

Ursa said, "It is as I said. You have done enough for Middle Earth. Sauron's power will take a century to return and his army is dead. The Orc are no more."

As she said it, her face looked pained. Indeed, like a hot iron, guilt set upon her heart. She felt the weight of thousands of Orc upon her shoulders. And she could do nothing.

She continued, "Sauron's invasion has been delayed. Middle Earth has a fighting chance. That is enough, Talion. You have saved our world once already. Now, that bane will pass on to new heroes."

"You don't know that," he said, "Alas, I must go. Let us pursue the Nazgul upon your Fell Beast."

"The ring of power is gone," she said, "With this lesser ring, you cannot win."

"Then I am to give up?" he said, "And hope… Hope that Gondor rallies its armies, musters her courage long gone? I am to abandon my duties… my people.. to live in peace as I wish?"

"Yes," she said, "You have earned it. You have sacrificed so much, Talion. You have endured all trial and tribulation. At long last, you may rest."

"No… I… I haven't done enough. I could do more. I… I still haven't saved Middle Earth. I… "

Ursa said, "You did save it. You were a hero until the very end."

"A hero…" he repeated softly.

His eyes became soft as her words, and those of another, finally reached him.

"So, then I can finally rest…"

Ursa said to him, "Let us leave this place. By the hour's ending, the Orc will have stormed this keep and once Sauron realizes I have betrayed him, he will strip me of my power. Let us ride back to Núrn while there is time."

Talion asked, "What of the Orc there? Will they remain branded?"

Ursa said, "The new ring lies in the hands of Eltariel. Unless she wishes to see Núrn destroyed, the Orc will continue to guard it. As for Amdir, no branded Orc remain there. I considered that greatly when I built it. I suppose it matters not. So, few are left as it is."

He said to her, "You foresaw all of this, didn't you?"

"No," said Ursa, "I never knew what the future had in store for us. I could only prepare countermeasures lest my fears came to fruition. I could only hope that a good end awaited us."

Talion said, "That end is here. Come, I have a horse nearby."

Ursa smiled softly at him and he at her. In his eyes, his guilt was revealed to her, and in her gaze, her shame to him. Even so, they would smile through it for they were together once more. They would fight for their future until the very end.

* * *

As they left the city, that pain seemed to wane for Talion. For a moment, a light was revealed to him. The hope for a good life he had abandoned when taking on a Nazgul's accursed ring. As that future returned, it was again brought into peril for Ursa became uneasy upon a sudden realization.

"Stop the horse."

Her voice was one of horse whinnied as Talion tightened the reigns and told her, "Whoa there."

As the steed slowed down, Talion turned to Ursa and asked, "What is it?"

"The Wraith has fled to the void to heal her wounds," said Ursa, "She will soon realize she is in possession of the armies here. And… me."

"The branding!" said Talion as his eyes filled with fear.

Ursa, "In any moment, she could give the order for me to betray you. She may also choose to remove it so that Sauron's hold is all that remains. Talion… It might be best to brand me yet again with her old ring. Wield it for a little until we can think of a solution. I am sorry for asking so much of you, my love."

Talion said, "Then a third branding would be upon you… To inflict such a thing on your mind…."

Ursa said, "Please Talion… there is no time. Do not let Sauron take me back!"

Talion said, "No. I will not brand you."

"What?" she asked in surprise.

"I will not again, Ursa," he said, "I was wrong to. You are resilient. You resisted Sauron's corruption for many years."

"It was but a slow poison," said Ursa.

"When it first befell you, you were drunk on power. You regained yourself."

"I was falling. Slowly with every evil deed I committed, I shed some of my goodness."

The Ranger said, "I believe you merely did what was needed. Those days of darkness are behind you. Ursa… tell me… how can you ask me to remove the branding? No Orc has ever asked that. Not even the wisest of them."

Ursa's eyes widened now.

Talion said, "Bruz's willpower broke free of it. I refuse to believe that a mind as brilliant as yours cannot do the same. You wished to be branded, Ursa. A part of you hoped I would win you back, didn't it?"

Ursa said, "Even if I break the branding, what of Sauron's corruption? How can you be certain I will not take you back to Sauron?"

Talion said, "I choose to believe in you. I will not perform that evil deed. Never again. If I were to, I know I could never join you in Amdir and you could never trust me again."

"Talion… I'm afraid."

"So am I. But we can overcome this together."

He slipped his fingers into her own and held her there. Even if afraid, he gazed at her with such confidence. In his presence, she felt stronger, as if she could win against the thing that sought to take her.

"Very well," said Ursa, "I will be a servant of this curse no more."

She then cried out, "I am Ursa…. Daughter of Orison! Wife of Talion and Mother of Inga! Queen of the Lands of Núrn. I will serve Sauron no longer! Nor his servants! I forsake the power he gave me! I give it all up!"

As she said it, a burden seemed to leave her shoulders. The branding Talion had placed upon her now vanished, and she felt Sauron's grasp upon her recede. Something had changed.

Ursa said, "All my life, I have dwelt in darkness, hoping for light. Perhaps that is what all blinded by darkness hope for. Shelob envied it above all else. Even Sauron could not forget the light he once embraced. From now and forever, I will walk in the light."

* * *

After several days of riding, they reached the passing of Cirith Ungol. The couple traveled across the long winding caves of Shelob's maze until they reached her nest. They found most of her children were nowhere to be found, although hundreds still guarded the ancient queen. Shelob's brood had spread out over Mordor and the borders of Gondor in search of food and a place to build their nests.

Up ahead, Talion saw Shelob's black legs climbing out from her funnel web. Her red eyes peered at them. The Ranger felt uneasy, as if he were being scrutinized and all his secrets laid bare. The Queen of Spiders now took on her human form, as the black smoke draped her once more.

She said, "So the quest has ended. You have failed."

Talion said, "Sauron is broken. Never again will I brandish my sword in war."

Shelob said, "So be it. Yet I sense you did not come here to discuss a change of heart."

Talion said, "You should lift the command you placed upon Celebrimbor's Ring, lest you seek to aid Eltariel."

"My command only calls upon my children. It was they who decided to answer it. Even so, I will remove my magic. Now Talion I see you have taken a new ring, one as powerless as it is pure."

"So it is truly pure then?" he asked.

"It would seem to be, "said Shelob, "Yet it is not Sauron's way to create goodness in any form. If you would seek it, I could place another curse upon you. One that will subdue the powers of the ring. Will you permit it? Will you permit me to weave my webs upon it, even if it might shorten your lifespan."

Talion said, "To grow old with Ursa… to see my daughter grow up… That is my last wish."

"Very well," said Shelob, "It is not an evil thing to wish for."

Shelob now returned to her true form, that of the accursed daughter born of an ancient darkness that sought to swallow all existence. Something that was both spider and yet too twisted to truly be so. The behemoth now climbed atop the roof of the cave. She hung there upon her great threads, seeming weightless for all her size. Suddenly, the small limbs on the back of her body began to move about. From her tail, small threads of web poured out as she weaved them Her children, hanging from invisible webs, fell down upon the web. They wrapped their mother's great webs about the ranger's hands. The ring of the enemy was caught in it. The webs seemed to vanish as they entered the ring.

Shelob said, "It is done."

Talion said, "Thank you."

"Go now," said Shelob, "I will have dealings with men no more. I will devour all that enter my lair."

Talion then said, "You need risk no more. If we leave you be, Sauron will surely do the same. That is you reasoning is it not?"

The queen of darkness said nothing.

Ursa now spoke saying, "I see. My husband is correct. You have risked everything for us, Shelob. We will be in your debt. Middle Earth is in your debt."

The great spider said only, "Hmmm…."

Talion said, "Once I asked if you were a ringmaker and you said you were not. Yet you knew much of Sauron's ways. You were not always cast into exile as you are now."

"I was…" said Shelob, "I was born into darkness and into darkness I returned. It was only for a moment that thought myself basking in the light. I was a fool. He whispered promises into my ears… words of sweetness sprung forth from his lips. And I…. I did his bidding until he abandoned me when his ruin was at hand."

Ursa said, "You loved him."

"Yes… I loved him."

Ursa then said, "I have felt evil take me. I know that darkness is an evil thing. Nevertheless, I do not believe a creature born of darkness need be of darkness. I do not think you an evil being Shelob, for you know love. I have seen your love of your children. I know that even now you mourn Madargon's passing. I came today to apologize. She died in my service, protecting me from certain death."

Shelob said, "Her children have already informed me. It was her choice to follow you into battle."

"I will never forget her," said Ursa, "And her legacy will live on. Her children will thrive here in Mordor for that is their home. They have as much claim to it as my kin. As my final act as Queen of this land, I wish to make this known. Goodwill to the Ungol of this land. And to you Queen of Spiders, I will hope for the day you gaze upon the light and find peace."

The Ungol Queen answered, "Such strange creatures… both of you. To commit such evil and yet return to the light… I know you will find peace. Go now before the enemy finds you. Do not let your perfect end slip away."

Talion said, "We will not."

"The rings of the lesser Nazgul you carry with you," said Shelob, "Leave them with me. My children will deliver them to Mount Doom to be destroyed. Do not let such corruption enter Carnán."

Talion said, "Then I thank you. We are in your debt once more. Come, Ursa, let us ride for Núrn. I am sure the Queen Marwen and her daughter await us there."

* * *

A grey overcast appeared above the hills of Núrn. The fires of war were put out with water and wind. Beneath the scorched earth, new life was slowly returning. The Queens' palace was slowly being rebuilt, and the farmers were bringing in fresh wood to rebuild their homes. As for the royalty of the tribes, they resided in Fort Morn for the time being. Talion's last Warchief and officers managed the few hundred Uruk left to guard the borders. As such, Queen Marwen was often busy keeping order and trade in the land. With Ursa gone, someone had to keep peaceful relations between the Orcs and Men, as well as any matters related to the island.

Today, Queen Marwen was walking out of the meeting room with the Warchief Kalug. Behind her, Lithariel walked closely with several scrolls in hand.

She asked, "Mother, must I accompany you on all these meetings?"

"Yes," said Queen Marwen, "I know your heart is in your hunts, my child, with the sword and bow. Nevertheless, the fate of Middle Earth remains uncertain. The army has not returned. Soon, you will need to take more responsibility, not simply to defend these lands, but to govern them. To see them flourish. Take notice of all my dealings for one day, it will be you who oversees the tribes of Núrn."

Lithariel said, "Then what duties would you have of me? Shouldn't I do more than simply chase after you?"

Marwen answered, "Go to the Island of Carnán. Five families have decided to await there until Talion's return. See to it that they are given a roof over their heads. Report back all you have learned."

"I see," said her daughter quietly, "Then I shall do as you have asked."

Her mother turned to her and said, "I know you believe the throne does not suit you… But you can be so much more than a great captain. Do not forget that I was wild in my younger days."

"You are still wild, Mother," said Lithariel.

"Of course," said the Queen with a laugh, "Then be at peace. Being queen will not stifle the fire within your heart. You will be a wonderful queen."

"You really think so?"

"I know it."

* * *

As Lithariel departed for the sea, Queen Marwen took a short break to gather her thoughts. She stood atop the balcony of Fort Morn. She breathed in, allowing fresh, crisp air to pour into her lungs. In all her years in Núrn, she had never tired of its bite. It felt rejuvenating. She could not imagine living anywhere else, especially below the poisonous clouds of Mordor's deserts. Marwen looked towards the road as her heart grew anxious.

"Where are you, Talion? You would not die so easily."

As if summoned, she saw his red drake appear upon the road. Marwen's eyes lit up in excitement. She heard the horn of the city blow as they were all alerted of their king and queen's return. Marwen could not help, but sigh in relief. It was done then. Sauron was defeated and his armies laid to waste. Soon Talion's legions would march home, and Morn would be safe once again. She continued to spy upon the dragon as it made its approach. However, Marwen's heart became uneasy. She did not know why.

The red drake soared over the city. The people below cheered at their leader's long-awaited return. However, the drake opened up his jaws and let out a deep roar. From its toothy mouth, an eruption of fire came forth. The fire fell down upon the city, consuming men, women, and children as it sprayed about. Through the screams of horror and the scent of burning flesh, were left remnants of ash and charred flesh. Marwen looked in horror as she saw the travesty before her, as she realized what had happened. She knew there was no defense against this, lest a fortunate arrow slay the beast. Atop it, she spied a figure, cloaked in darkness, wearing a crown of blades. A faceless king left without his capital. He would now take hers. The Queen dashed down the stairs of Fort Morn.

"Rally the defenses!" she said, "Fire all ballistae!"

The captain of the wall said, "It will be done!"

She turned to the Warchief Kalug and stretched out her hand.

She commanded him, "We must get the people to the ships! We must send away that drake, even if for a moment! We will fight until the very end!"

* * *

Marwen awoke in a sea of fire. She found herself laying down in the courtyard. It seemed a blast of fire had knocked her off her feet. Núrn was burning yet again. Fort Morn was in shambles. The defenses upon the wall had been obliterated. As she pulled herself to her feet, she saw the Warchief running towards her.

"The Queen!" he roared, "Get her to safety! Bring me archers!"

"Nazgul!" shouted one of his goblins.

The wings of the drake flew in. His mighty talons wrapped around an Uruk as he landed. The drake roared out in fury from the pain its master inflicted upon it. Foam spilled from his mouth. The Lord of the Nazgul had tortured Atanáro to fully take his mind, erasing the memory of his former master. The Witch King now vanished in a cloud of smoke. He appeared in the midst of the forces of Núrn. Around him, warriors of the tribe and Uruk that served Ursa all appeared.

Queen Marwen pulled out her bow and aimed her shot at him.

She said, "Do not be afraid! Stand your ground against this evil! You will fight and die for the people of Núrn!"

The Witch King answered, "Why do you resist? You have already joined me in death."

He unleashed a horrific wail that sent the swords of the weak-willed upon the floor. Others now found themselves frozen in fear while others fell onto their knees and screamed in horror. As they did, the Witch King's strength began to return. He soaked in their fear ad arose mighty. He pulled out his sword and now marched forward. He flew into their ranks and slashed open the brave warriors that dared stand against them. A great Olog charged forward at him. Its club ran through black smoke as the Witch King returned to the mortal domain. His sword swung upwards in a killing stroke of perfect precision. The Olog clutched at its neck, as blood spilled from it, its thick hide so easily severed. The troll cried out and fell over dead. From behind, a single arrow pierced at his back. He turned to peer upon the one who had done it.

"Ah… a queen without a people. Your people fell into ruin long ago."

Marwen answered, "Even so… I am their queen. I will fight for what remains."

He answered, "What remains will live only to serve Mordor."

"You will not touch them!" she shouted, "The Corsairs are a people of the sea. You can our land and even our lies, but never our freedom."

She fired yet another arrow at his head. Meanwhile, her bodyguards and the Warchief began to flank the Witch King from the side. Her arrow spun through the air as his sword cut it apart. He now summoned his flail from the darkness and sent it reeling wide. It tossed the warriors apart in all direction, shredding through armor, head, and limb. Blood rained down in the courtyard, amidst the ruin and despair inflicted on the living. The phantom king would not be stopped in his hour of vengeance. As he brought the mighty Kalug to his knees, he reached out and bent his mind.

"You serve the Dark Lord," said the King of Angmar.

The Warchief's eyes now glowed a feint green. He turned to Marwen and bore his teeth at her. The Nazgul stretched apart his arms, and the dead returned to life. His necromancy was a frightful thing. Marwen's loyal bodyguards, and Orcs alike now gazed back at her, empty and tied to the fate of their master.

The Witch King said, "It is over. You have fought bravely. I will give you a death fitting of a queen."

Marwen pulled back on the drawstring of her bow once more. She fired it speedily at the Witch King. He swiped the air with his gauntlet, as if striking down all in front to him. The arrow spun off course, and Marwen was forced onto her knees. Her mind began terrified of the strange magic before her. She knew not how to defend herself against his unreachable will. Yet through the fear, her own courage prevailed. The Queen slowly withdrew as she plucked out more arrows. The Witch King continued to approach her with his sword aimed forward at her, as her arrows passed through the black plumes of his hollow form. At last, Marwen felt her back press against the wall of the courtyard. As for her arrows, none remained. She now looked up at the black rider before her. As she gazed at him, she was not without fear. She felt the terror of death's arbiter before her. However, her duty would not let her rest. She pulled out the dagger from her belt and stabbed it at his head. He grabbed hold of her by the wrist. With the other, his claws wrapped around her throat. He lifted her up into the air and held her there at his mercy. Marwen choked and wrestled as he tightened his grip. Her dagger fell from her hands as her strength left her. He now released her upon the ground. Marwen fell onto her knees and gasped for air as she clutched her damaged throat. From behind, she heard the gentle hum of his sword.

The Queen now became silent. She exhaled softly now. From her side, she saw the blades of his boots stamp into the grass. He gazed down at her with his sword lifted up into the air.

The Queen said to him, "My people… will live on."

The Morgul blade swung true and ended her life then and there. It was a clean-cut befitting of a royalty. The Witch King gazed down upon her corpse now as his Warchief awaited his command. As he took the realm, several ships escaped upon the water. Perhaps he knew and cared not. Perhaps she had outwitted him or it was his one act of mercy for the mettle she displayed. In the end, Núrn was destroyed at his hand. When its green truly returned, it would be home to Sauron's Orcs once more.

* * *

From the bow of her boot, Lithariel gazed out in fear and sadness. She could see the smoke rising even from so far away. Beside her ship, was a small fisherman's boat packed with survivors. The news had already reached her. She would wait a little longer, gazing into the darkness a little longer as she mourned.

"The ship can wait no more," said her captain, "The dragon could soon be upon us. We must return to the island's shore."

"My mother's dream was to walk proudly on the green lands of Núrn," said the princess, "To not live in the shadow of Mordor. Even so, she always said our people would endure. We will endure this."

"Then we must return at once for your coronation," said Celtes, "You are queen now."

His firm hand wrapped around hers and she tightened her grip in turn. Celtes turned towards his men aboard the ship and roared out, "You stand before the new Queen of Núrn! Queen Lithariel of the Corsairs and the tribes of Núrn!"

Lithariel looked sadly forward once more. Already, she could feel the weight of queenship upon her shoulders. She wondered how her mother had put on a smile, and found happiness even amidst such darkness.

 _There's so many things I wish I could ask you. Mother… I wish I could speak to you a little longer. Even so, I will try to become the queen you envisioned. I will make you proud._

* * *

 **Author's Note:** The upcoming chapter will be the finale of Ursa of Fire. It's not easy to say goodbye to these characters that I've grown so attached to writing.


	35. Final Chapter: The Promise of Ursa

**Final Chapter: The Lords of Núrn and the Promise of Ursa**

Sauron looked to the horizon. He had prevailed against the light yet again, but it was not the victory he had envisioned nor hoped for. His sons were slain, as were many of his Nazgul. His grand army was reduced to only a few legions and those stowed within Minas Morgul. He was weakened and tied to the will of Celebrimbor. Even more, he had lost her. The one who understood him. Not as his lieutenant, the Mouth, did in matters of cruelty and war, but as one whom to sought to reshape the world for the better.

The Great Eye turned to the far-off shores of Núrn, to where his Black Captain had fled.

He uttered to her, "So you have chosen mortality? Then diminish with the light of the Valar, be at peace in the end of all things."

Sauron would not touch the Island of Carnán, knowing the ancient spirit had taken an oath to protect those that dwelled there. Fighting her would be challenging. In any case, the fate of so few was of little concern compared to rebuilding his armies. And so, the island would become a prison for those that remained. Any that sought to escape it, would lose her protection and find death at his hand.

The Dark Lord watched as the Witch King flew upon his Fell Beast, as it encircled the tower of Barad-dûr. Soon he would fly to Gorgoroth to conquer it, and Sauron would appoint the Mouth of Sauron as its new master. Again, these lands of unrest would return to him, but it would take many years. His armies would return, as would his power. The fate of Middle Earth had been delayed a time, but such peace would not last. His Orc would never cease to attack the lands of Gondor, and it was only a matter of time before he stretched out his hand and took it for himself. For now, he would churn in fire and darkness, alone once more.

Alone…

That was his way in the end, to drive away that which he sought, chain his own allies, and to destroy even as he sought to save. To burn within his own destruction, seeking beauty and order in all things. So, the Dark Lord would endure.

* * *

As Ursa and Talion approached Núrn, the half-Orc knew something had changed. She felt in that moment that Sauron had forsaken her. She felt his magic leave her veins. With it, he took the knowledge that she could defend herself from great evil and left her utterly powerless once more. However, she also felt a seething rage now quelled, and an end to the dark dreams he sent upon her. She could breathe again.

"It is finished," she whispered, "Sauron's hold over me has faded."

To his horse, the Ranger said, "Whoa there."

The beast of burden stopped in its steps. Talion dismounted to look up at Ursa's face. She leaned down to show him what had become of the power she possessed. Where once he saw the fires of Mordor, now he saw the red iris of an Orc. He did not realize how much he had missed it until that very moment. Her gaze seemed softer. In truth, Talion did not know if this was from the corruption leaving her or from her own doing as she gave up power for peace.

Ursa breathed in the cold air of outer Núrn. It was as if a great weight had been removed from her shoulders, as if her body were far lighter. Her body felt cold again, and she was reminded of her own weaknesses and mortality. Even so, she could not help but smile. A single tear slipped down her face as she said goodbye to the rage that had made her stronger, protected her, and tortured her. She no longer had need of it.

* * *

A small ferry now completed its journey across the gaping sea. It set upon the coast of the lone island. From the boat, Talion emerged with his sword drawn. His wife remained close to him with a spear in hand, her staff having been left with Shelob. They looked carefully for any signs of danger. Ursa was not yet sure if Carnán had awakened from her slumber, nor if goblin raiders would take advantage of such weakness. With the borders in peril, the couple did best to avoid the eyes of others, whether friendly or otherwise. The only certainty was with Ursa's goblins in Amdir as all were loyal and unbranded.

* * *

After an hour of traveling, they drew close to the sanctuary. They saw the white walls of Amdir glowing as sun beams radiated upon it. On the top of the wall, a soldier blew on a horn of Gondor. A trumpet played as the lords of Amdir arrived together at last. The wooden gates of the fortress offered them passage. Inside, dozens of guards now blocked the way. Suddenly, a single man pushed his way through. He had a long shaggy beard and messy, unwashed hair that reached his shoulders. He gazed widely at the pair standing before the gateway. His jaw now hung low as he took in the sight before him.

"Ursa!" he yelled out.

"Father!" said Ursa with great joy in her heart.

"I thought you had perished in battle."

Orison's arms wrapped tightly around his daughter. Ursa shut her eyes as she felt his love pour over her. In that moment, although they could never see eye to eye, his love made all the difference. It closed the gap that had been growing between them. In the arms of her father, Ursa felt the love only a parent can give. She knew he could not escape his own resentment of goblins, but even so, he was her father. At last, he pulled away and looked at both of them.

Ursa asked, "Is Inga safe?"

"She is. She has grown so much since you last saw her."

Talion then asked Orison, "Orison… what has become of Queen Marwen and Lady Lithariel? We saw great pillars of smoke rising from Fort Morn. What has happened?"

Orision's eyes grew grave now as the joy left his countenance.

"The Witch King scoured it. He executed Queen Marwen and took control of the Orc there. The only respite is that he did not lay waste to the island. His Orc secure the coast, but no ship has come to these shores."

Ursa said, "He intends to leave the Island unscathed, lest he unleash the fury of Carnán upon him. Even so… how can Queen Marwen be dead?"

"Come," said her father, "I will take you to the new queen."

* * *

Beyond the gate, was a small town. Cottages outlined it as did small guard posts. However, it was less of a fortress and more of a city wall. Amdir was not made for siege as the Warchiefs' fortresses were. It was made for beauty. It was made for the peasants rather than for soldiers. Small houses were built all about to support the families. Acres of crops surrounded them. The farther they walked into Amdir, the closer they appeared towards Ursa's palace. There were many tents where the people of the tribes sought refuge while others went about building their new lodging.

Built around the wall was the main town with the armory, stockades, taverns, and merchant stalls. As they reached it, Talion found himself in awe. He saw Orc and Man alike bartering. These were the Orc and tribesmen that had chosen to give up life on the mainland and accepted this land without borders. As such, they were the pioneers of a new kingdom, small as it was. Up ahead, the Ranger saw the palace a little more closely. It stood atop a long flight of white steps behind a barred iron gate. Four round towers stood on the corners of the keep. In the center, built around the gate, was a large square tower of Ursa's palace and star-gazing spire. The defensive towers were slender with white spires and curves built together. It seemed Ursa was building them with the styling of the Elves in mind. Even in her absence, it had been built faithful to her intentions.

As the gates opened, Talion gazed inside where the Queen's throne and that of her husband stood, both perfect replications of their seats in Fort Morn.

Orison said, "A small palace is being built for Lithariel on the other side of Amdir. For now, she resides her. She and the Orc captains have resided over the island in your absence, my Queen."

"Queen…" said Ursa, "Am I still fit to be queen? It is strange but… I imagined myself as a simple mother when I returned."

Ursa then asked, "How can I go back to being Queen of a people I abandoned?"

Orison said, "Amdir needs its queen. The Orc need one they can trust."

"Very well," said Ursa, "I will resume my duties."

From the hallway behind the throne room, Lithariel made her appearance. Her long messy dreadlocks were thoroughly cleaned leaving smooth blonde hair that likely took ages to brush. She wore, on her head, the crown of the queen, and a white majestic robe as her regalia. However, she did not wear the soft robes of her mother. Instead, she was dressed in beautifully-crafted silver armor. Such material was light, but it showed that she was still a warrior ready to defend her people. It would be difficult for her to adapt to a time of peace. And that fire burned through her eyes as she saw her friends.

"Queen Ursa! Lord Talion!" said Lithariel, "It cannot be. The messenger told me, but I did not believe it."

"We have returned," said Talion, "Much has happened. Sauron remains, but he is weakened. Celebrimbor remains imprisoned in Barad-dûr. As for our army, it was utterly decimated."

As Talion spoke about Celebrimbor, his heart grew heavy. He swore he could see the shrunken face of the Elf just over his shoulder, speaking haughtily and with tease. But it was not so. Their paths had split apart, never to be mended. Their friendship was now only in sweet memory.

Lithariel said, "We too have suffered much."

Ursa clutched her chest and said wearily, "Lithariel… I'm so sorry. It is not right for you to know such loss."

"My mother's wishes live on with me," said the new Queen.

Talion said to the shieldvmaiden, "I must beg for your forgiveness. This suffering is my doing. Had I not failed to pursued him, your mother would still be alive. It was upon my drake he did such evil."

Lithariel said, "Was it worth driving him from Minas Morgul?"

Her eyes did not show sympathy nor forgiveness at his words.

Talion said, "The only good I can see from it is that I razed much of the garrisons."

"So the army endures and you chose to abandon it?" asked Lithariel, "He will reclaim it once his strength returns. Minas Morgul will be claimed once more by Mordor."

"It will," said Talion, "He cannot remain banished forever. I could have chosen to remain there for many years and to drive away Mordor's forces. All the while, succumbing to the ring of the Nazgul. That was the fate I had intended for myself, my final duty."

"'Ring?' What ring?"

"Celebrimbor betrayed me, as did Eltariel. She became the new ringbearer. I had no choice but to take the ring of Isildur, the Nazgul lord who I had slain. I would have fallen into evil one day and joined the Witch King by his side. Such was his desire."

"Then I am glad you chose life," said Eltariel, "My mother would have been glad to."

Ursa now said, "Eltariel, you've become a great queen. Your mother's will find peace knowing her people are ruled by a kind and just queen."

"Thank you," said Lithariel, "And I will find peace knowing the other queen of this land has returned. I am afraid our domain is much smaller. I hope we will not fall to petty squabbling over power."

"We will not," said Ursa, "Although ruled by queens, Amdir is not meant for royalty. It was built for the people. Their wishes and betterment will decide all."

Lithariel said, "Then I will take my leave. My palace awaits. It's not as fancy as yours but… my mother never wanted a palace anyway, and her people never cared for one. We were Corsairs… our homes were in our hordes of treasure and precious things… Not just jewels of the earth and old scrolls. Marwen shared her estate with her guards and their families, and insisted her people build close to her. That they visit her gardens, and share in that glory. I will do the same. My home will be filled with relics and scrolls of our precious history. We will not forget. Perhaps one day, we will return to Núrn to reclaim it. Or we will return to the sea and become Corsairs once more."

Ursa said, "The tribesmen are strong. I am sure they will endure the changing of the world."

"Such words comfort me. Thank you," said Queen Lithariel, "And to you, Talion, I must say… it is good to see you. You look well without another being within you. How do you fare from this change?"

Talion gazed downward as he tried to quell the emotions within him.

At last, he said, "I am relieved to call my body my own and my own alone. Even so, I miss his voice. I wish he would offer words of disparagement once again. I wish he had not chosen power over our friendship… Over me."

Ursa said, "Celebrimbor… he was kind to those around him. I hope that once Sauron is destroyed, his spirit can find rest. I hope he will not give into animosity, rather remember what he lost that day. That which cannot be replaced or forged anew."

"I believe," said Ursa, "I will go to my chambers. I can delay our reunion no longer."

Ursa now paid no more heed to those around her. Her strategists and officers had much to say, but it would have to wait. Right now, her duties as a queen meant nothing. The walls of Amdir fell before her as she strode down the stretch of halls. She turned the corner, as her red eye remained focused on her single purpose. At last, it lay before her: the doors of her daughter's chambers. Ursa pushed open the doors as if she were bursting through those of her throne room. Inside, her handmaid gasped and stumbled backwards. Upon the floor was a child playing with a set of toys set about in the shape of some sort of town. Small toy horses with knights, a doll sown into the shape of a maiden, and blocks stacked into towers made up this small domain. The child's light brown eyes looked up in wonder. Her long black hair shimmered in the sunlight. It reached far past her chin now and looked as soft as pure silk.

"Mama?" asked Inga.

Ursa's heart froze at these words. In only a few months, her daughter had grown so much. Yet in such little time, she had feared she would be forgotten entirely.

"That's right," said Ursa, "Mother's home."

Ursa walked forward and sat down in front of Inga. Inga dropped the doll in her hand and reached out. Her hands grabbed hold of Ursa's cheeks and squeezed at them. Inga blinked as she scrutinized the person in front of her. The half-Orc remained frozen as her emotions swelled within her. She felt her daughter's small hand pressing against her face. Her touch was revitalizing to her.

"Mama.. gerbblefff"

"Did you miss your mother?" asked Ursa, "Mother missed you. Father did as well."

From behind, Talion stood in the doorway to gaze down at the sight before him. He watched as Ursa took her daughter up in her arms and turned her forward. The Ranger felt his countenance dash to pieces as his daughter gazed upon him.

Ursa said, "This is your Papa. Can you say 'Papa?"

"Ma…Ma… P-Papa!" said Inga, "Errgmmmmmphf."

She began to swat her arms, wanting to be placed back on the ground with her toys. However, Ursa carried her closer to her husband. Inga's playful hands now began to poke and grab at her father's stubble. She blinked in curiosity and continued to take him in.

"Mmmn. Paaapa?"

Talion's mouth wavered. He struggled to answer such a simple question. In that moment, he did not know if he should answer it. It felt wrong to acknowledge it when he had missed so much of her first years. However, as he saw Ursa and Inga gazing so lovingly at him, he was reminded that there was still time left to correct those wrongs.

"Papa is here," said Talion.

His head moved forward and pressed against his daughter's. The Ranger laid a gentle kiss upon the child's forehead. He then pulled back to gaze at her. She had grown so much in so little time. He barely recognized her.

"It will be alright now, Talion"

Those words from his wife seemed to edify him, bring warmth back into his veins and stir his heart, allowing it to beat once more. Although a corpse, he had never felt more alive.

Ursa spoke, "Everything will be alright now."

* * *

Night began to settle upon all of Núrn. On the Island of Carnán, the evening air was kept alive by the orchestra of crickets, frogs, and birds. They played to the rhythm of life, as their great mother breathed in and out. Hers was the heartbeat of the island. On this night, Ursa slipped away for a moment of fresh air. The wife and husband had spent the entire day caring for Inga.

Ursa looked downed from the balcony of her mansion. About her she saw the town below, and ahead of that, was a ring of forest trees. Already, she missed the view of Fort Morn, she missed seeing the sea. It was nearby but it out of sight. Here in Amdir, the price of piece was to be sealed away from the rest of the world. To turn their back upon it. Ursa could not ask herself if she had done the right thing. She had reached many revelations over time and her decision seemed to be the right one. Even so, what was left could never fully heal. She could not allow it to. A price had to be paid for her evil deeds. And what evil deeds they were.

Ursa fell onto her knees now as she remembered it all. As she felt the weight of her sins crush down up on her fragile back. Without the darkness, there was nothing to hold them back. The death of her people bore down upon her. The fires she had so readily wielded as she gave into depravity and for a time, decided to betray Middle Earth. The branding she was responsible for, the deaths… Like a hateful memory, it haunted her so. The scars that ached upon her she would bear for life. As would Talion.

Even if they chose a life of peace, they could never go back to being the good people they once were. The idealistic man beset to marry a woman of Gondor. The half-Orc aspiring to become Warchief. Born into hateful lands, they had given up so much to save it. But in the end, they chose to live for the new life born into their world. Who could judge them when they had given up so much and brought a temporary peace to Middle Earth? None could understand the horrors they had endured nor how beautiful a single moment of peace was. As such, the only ones cruel enough and righteous enough to judge them were they themselves. Ursa would never forgive herself. Every time she looked in the mirror, she would catch a glimpse of a monster.

Her tears poured out now as her bane stifled her and broke out of her chest. The torment of nightmares undeterred by daylight were still near. An evil being had whispered into her ear and entered her body. Cruel masters had sought her death and tortured her for their amusement. And in turn, she had tortured others, one of whom still wandered Middle Earth with painful scars. Ursa knew it was too late for atonement. She had already paid it, but it wouldn't do any good. She would need to destroy all that she loved and die a pointless death to pursue it once more. That she would not do. Even if she regretted everything, she did not regret the love she felt for Talion and Inga. They were her last lights as she faded away in the wheel of time.

* * *

Five years later…

The small community of Amdir had grown. The world within the walls was now comfortably filled now with new children being born among the families. In time, they would begin to build outside the wall. Even without such defenses, they would be safe. The guardian of the island would care for them. Carnán was kind to those under her care. Never once did they go hungry or see their crops fail. In turn, they cut only what they needed, and planted new saplings in the place of those hewn down.

Queen Lithariel rode out from her small palace. Her blonde hair swayed to and fro through the air like a cloak. It had grown much in those five years. Behind her, her royal guard remained close. Her eyes were on the road as her horses carried her over the forest floor.

She yelled out, "Ride with all haste! We will not let these river men perish."

Word had reached her that a dam had burst from the great rain not a day behind them. Those sent to fix it were left crushed under wooden beams by the edge of the water. Possessing such mighty horses, the Queen herself set out to save her people. Behind her rode Celtes, her esteemed retainer and lover. Though they wished to be betrothed, Lithariel would not hand over her power. A single ruler was all that was needed for the tribes.

"Ride hard!" shouted the Queen once more, "Ride true."

She smiled as she gazed upward at the radiant blue sky above her. The storm clouds of yesterday had broken, and rays of sunlight now broke through the cover of darkness. It would soon clear as it always did. The light would shine down upon her and reveal those in need to their queen.

* * *

Upon the palace of Amdir, a great banner had been placed, one of Gondor and of the Orc tribes that ruled under Ursa. Sitting upon the throne was the Queen clad in long black robes and a crown of silver. She sat crossed leg as she listened to the words of farmers who had come to her in interest. With kindness and consideration, she listened to their pleads. She took in the wisdom of her advisers, strategists, and of the tribesmen themselves. She sighed as the long day stretched on.

Soon Orison and the other rangers arrived with news on the borders. The Witch King's ships guarded the sea of Núrnen, but made no advance. As for the King of the Nazgul, he had long since left that place. Upon listening to the war order, the King of Amdir gave his own decree. Talion sat upon his throne, dressed in a soft dark brown robe and light silver armor. His long hair was well-brushed and his beard nicely trimmed.

Talion said to Orison, "Send word to the carpenters to press on with their ship-making. We will not let our fishermen be harassed by the arrows of the enemy."

Ursa added, "Wise words. I fear the Orc will soon grow more daring, though none would dare step on the island."

Orison nodded and answered them both, "So it will be done. I will take my leave."

Ursa quickly said, "Must you leave so soon? With business attended to, I was hoping you would join us and the children in the western meadow."

Her father said, "Is that so? Then I will work with haste to join you once my duties are done."

"Lovely," said Ursa with both a queenly tone and an air of kindness, "You are excused, Captain Orison."

She saw her father bow briskly before he spun around to make his way through the gates of her palace. The Queen of Núrn gazed upon him as he left. She could not help but focus upon the sword sheathed at his belt, the sword of her fallen friend Hallas. Soon the anniversary of his death would be upon them.

* * *

The estate of Amdir was silent for the remainder of the day. The strategists and ministers cared for the court and the requests of the villagers. Its king and queen were away, off in a nearby meadow at the borders of their estate. For the Queen's return, Carnán had sent her finest seeds to nourish the meadows and gardens. Before them, blossoms of white and red the size of one's hand bloomed proudly. Although Talion could not take Ursa again to see their favored flower in Núrn's borderlands, far more spectacular ones grew here in Carnán's garden. Closer to the forest yonder, the vines of green and blooms of all colors were even more spectacular. Yes, all the island was her garden and she was the finest of gardeners.

Queen Ursa sat upon a wooden bench that her Ranger had carried all the ways for her comfort. A work of art carved by her beloved. She sat in peace as her eyes gleamed through the book before her. At her side was a new book with many blanks pages, yet others were filled entirely with words and illustrations. Each entry spoke of a plant, seed, or blossom she had unearthed upon the island. A gentle breeze now blew at her hair, sending it in her eyes. She slipped her ebony locks to the side with a single finger. Her hair was along and silken as ever, but she parted it well now. Her bangs were pushed back no longer hiding away her eye patch from sight. A scar was no shame amongst the Orc after all. She hadn't much aged much in those years as goblins were beings of hearty lifespans.

"Mother, look!" shouted a child's voice.

Ursa shut her book swiftly and turned her attention to the girl before her.

She said, "I'm watching, Dear."

Inga moved her legs into a fighting stance and held up her sword. In front of her, Talion stood with a wooden sword of his own.

Ursa said, "Slay him, Inga!"

Talion responded, "Pardon me? You're supposed to cheer for me."

"I'll cheer for you both then."

Inga said, "That's not allowed, Mother!"

"Well, I'm Queen so I think I shall make an exception."

"Aww…."

Inga's eyes now turned to steel as she gazed at her father. Their swords now crossed again and again. Talion easily parried and blocked the feeble attacks, but Inga was rather relentless. Her energy seemed without end. At last, Talion ended the battle, feigning death. Inga grinned wildly and began to run around the garden. Her long black hair was tied up in a braid, save for a few locks hanging in the front.

Talion now dropped the wooden sword and walked up to Ursa.

"Sorry," said the Ranger, "She insisted. She wishes to become a ranger of Amdir and intends to by the time of her tenth birthday."

Ursa said, "We will see about that. She'll do no such thing until she's of age."

Talion answered, "Oh? No words of exception from the Queen?"

"The King seems to be against it and I support his decision."

"The King," said Talion, "Would rather be on patrol with Orision. He will leave matters to the Queen just as he always has, only offering decrees in matters of war. He is royalty in name only. Given he was a Bright Lord when they married, the position of king seems unsuitable."

Ursa asked, "You miss being addresses as the Bright Lord?"

A rhetorical question.

"The opposite," said Talion, "You seem to believe it suits me, but I am not sure. So I will make a deal. Rule with scepter and I will guard you with my sword. That is my promise."

Ursa knew Talion could never give up the sword entirely. He could not bear the thought of his skills rusting. He could never fully settle down. He could not sleep without the blade in his room, nor stay away from the hunts forever. For all his hatred of battle, it was a part of him. And so, Ursa came to understand this and accept that forever he would be a ranger.

The Queen said, "If only to defend what you love, I will gladly accept that promise. In the age we seek, the sword will not be a weapon of death, but to train and defend what we love. That is the future we fought for."

Talion looked over at his daughter and said, "That is what we fought for."

"Father," said Inga, "Have Hallas play with me!"

Talion said to her, "Let him read a little longer."

The young boy of only a few years old was laying in the soft grass of the garden. He had messy brown hair just like his father. He was silently reading a simple picture book with short sentences written on each page. He had kept his nose poked into it since they first entered the garden that morning.

"Hallas!" shouted Inga, "Let us play knights."

He shook his head as he read and whispered, "Hmmmm… No."

Ursa said, "There you have it, Inga. You must be patient. A ranger must always be patient lest she be a poor hunter."

Her daughter exclaimed, "Oh! You're right, Mother. I didn't think of that. I'll be patient a little longer, but you must play when you are finished, Hallas!"

Ursa giggled and slid her hand again upon the leather-binding of her book. She watched as her husband took up Inga by her arms and began to spin her like a leaf caught in the worlwind. As his sister giggled happily, Hallas' eyes became more interested until he could bear it no more.

"Spin me! Spin me too, Papa!" said Hallas as he bounced up and down with his arms stretched out.

Talion laughed and now grabbed them both. They clung to his arms as he turned again and again for them.

Ursa smiled upon seeing him like this. Perhaps the scars were beginning to heal, or it was simply a calm amongst the storm. Either way, she found herself gazing up at the sun above as it became obscured amongst the clouds. Without such clouds, her skin would burn. A small sacrifice to live in the light.

Like Talion, she could never fully embrace peace, even as she sought it. Her mind would forever turn like a set of gears. A darkness would forever linger in her heart. She could not so easily put aside the horrors that had beset her, of the words branded upon her, and the scars carved upon her body. Even more, Ursa could not cast aside her shame.

As the clouds fully enveloped the light above, Ursa's happiness vanished for a time. There were moments, times, and days when one cannot help but feel such sadness. Yet like the clouds turning above, those moments would come and go. And such, her happiness would return in time. Ursa's arm now stretched upwards and she gazed up at the rolling clouds. Her talons spread out as she tried to grasp for it once again. And she smiled as her joy returned and confidence gripped her heart.

Ursa whispered, "Though I have won, I will not stop here. We fought hard and held you back, Lord Sauron. One day, your ring will be found, and Middle Earth will be ready. A final peace will set upon the world. All of Middle Earth will be as Amdir. My final wish will come true. You will see."

 **THE END.**

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Thank you so much for following Ursa's journey from an outcast of Mordor to a queen of many armies to the peaceful ruler of Amdir raising her beautiful children beside her beloved Talion. Seeing an original character like Ursa so well-received and the same said of her story, means so much to me. For a time, I gave up on the idea of every making a sequel to Ursa the Weakling, but thanks to your support, I was inspired to complete it with two more books. It's been a pleasure to write, to draw on the talented Tolkien, Peter Jackson's films, and Monolith's exciting games. And although I will miss following the journey of Ursa and Talion, I am glad to to see their story reach its conclusion. I do hope this last chapter was satisfying to you. Please feel free to leave a review of it, of this story as a whole, or even the trilogy. What did I do well on? What were its flaws? I love reading all your reviews. And I love all my readers so much. I wish you all the best, my fellow fans of Middle Earth.


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